


Mister Silver Fox

by jessicawhisper



Category: KISS (US Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2020-05-20 13:50:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 44,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19377991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicawhisper/pseuds/jessicawhisper
Summary: When you have been dating Evan for a while, and on a whim, he decides that you should meet his dad. But eventually things come to light, and through certain circumstances, things change between you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Get access to the rest through patreon, here ---> [Become A Patron](https://www.patreon.com/Jessywhisper)

New York University.

Your first day in your new housing arrangements in the 4th year of university, and you of course get dragged to a party by your roommates.

In retrospect it was a good reason to get out of your apartment since you’d been cooped up in your room trying to arrange everything.

So having the excuse of going out to the party was a nice excuse to let loose for a bit.

That was what you were thinking maybe 30 minutes into being at the party, but after that you just felt like going home and laying on your bed binge-watching another series on netflix.

So the task at hand was to try and convince one of your roommates to walk back to the dorm with you.

Which was difficult because 1) trying to get through the hoards of people while slightly inebriated made you feel like a pinball in a pinball machine, as you struggled to move with the dancing hoards and 2) you didn’t have any faith at all that any of the girls would actually want to walk back with you.

Just as you were making your way towards where all the girls from your shared suite, you locked eyes with one of them.

“Hey do you mind walking with me back to the dorm room?” You shout over the music that was being piped out of the speakers.

“Why? We just got here?” she replied, and for the life of you her name wasn’t coming to you. And from her clipped tone you could tell that she wasn’t going to be open to walking out of this party to walk your slightly tipsy butt back to your room.

“If you do, I’ll owe you tomorrow? I’ll buy you breakfast?” You offer, as you get your immediate answer as you see her smile at the thought of free food.

“Alright, but there’s not limit, I get free range of the dining hall tomorrow morning.” she replies, as you smile knowing you won’t have to be on guard while walking back to the dorm.  
* * *  
You were walking back with your roommate, feeling a sense of calm come over you as you heard the music from the party fade more and more as you walked further away from.

As you rounded a corner, you heard murmured male voices, that made you instinctive go towards your dorm keys, and clutch the pepper spray that you had added to the set this morning when you were given the keys by your RA.

 

“I’m cold, I’m tired and I’m going to kill one of you unless someone finds me some coffee.” one of the voices said in a tired tone, as you heard them come closer and just as you were going to put the pepper spray down your finger slipped and pushed the trigger down and it sprayed in the direction of one of the men that spoke up.

And started screaming as the pepper spray came into contact with his eyes. The second he started screaming, all the other guys that were with him bolted in multiple directions, leaving you, and your roommate with him.

Scrambling hysterically to get him to stop trying to get the pepper spray away from his eyes, and just making it worse.

“I am so sorry! My finger slipped. Come on we can take you to our dorm room its not to far away, we can get something to get it out of your yes.” You say, as you and your roommate help him walk in the direction of your dorm room.

Once inside, you quickly sit him down in one of the chairs at the table and open up your fridge and grab a gallon of milk from it.

“Milk? That’s suppose to help with the intense burning that makes me want to scoop my eyes out?” the guy said through squinted eyes, and tears streaming down his face.

 

“Yes, its suppose to help. Hold on.” You say, as you go to grab a cloth and start saturating the cloth with it.

And you notice out of your peripheral vision that your roommate was still by the entrance.

“You can go back to the party. I’ve got this.” You say, seeing the relief on your roommate’s face, as she opened the door.

“Good luck with the pepper spray Evan, and y/n don’t forget you owe me breakfast tomorrow.” She said, before closing the door behind her.

You rolled your eyes at the comment, while handing Evan the cloth covered in milk, as he applied it to one eye and then another, constantly switching off.

“I’m sorry about this.” You say, as you go to sit down across from him, as he sighed.

“No it’s fine. I get it. Big campus and everything and walking around at night. Totally get it. Plus you’ve got good aim.” Evan said, as he smiled, as you took him in.

Short brown hair, brown eyes from what you could tell with his eyes squinted so tightly, at least 6 ft tall, wearing jeans and a simple t-shirt.

You quickly took over, taking the cloth from him and setting it on one eye for a time before switching to the other.

After about 15 minutes, you noticed that his eyes didn’t seem to stop producing tears.

“You good?” You asked, as you took the cloth off his eyes, as you watched him give a couple test blinks to make sure that all the pepper spray was out of his eyes.

“Yeah i think so.” he said hesitantly, as he smiled up at you.

“Thanks for the help. Now I know to stay clear of you at night.” Evan said jokingly, as you laughed.

“You still want that coffee you were whining about before i pepper sprayed you in the face?” You ask, as Evan smiled back at you.

“Sure, but let’s get one thing straight y/n I wasn’t whining.” He said, as you smiled at him.

“Uh huh sure.” You say sarcastically, as you grab a coffee filter, and coffee grounds and put that into the coffee maker, before adding water into the coffee pot, and sitting back down to chit chat while the coffee started brewing.

* * *

A couple months later…

You got up out of bed, smelling the coffee that had been brewed as you walk into the kitchen, to grab a cup and saw a piece of paper by the coffeemaker.

Got up early to go to the university sound mixing studio to work on some songs, I’ll be back in a bit  
~Evan

You read the note, smiling at it.

You had gotten together with Evan shortly after the pepper spray incident. He was a fellow New York University senior as well, and a music major.

So it wasn’t surprising that Evan always woke up early, especially on the weekends to get up before anyone else to go work on music projects, some for uni, but most was for himself.

This little routine of his always left you with some time to yourself, and with you staying at Evan’s single dorm room, you lifted your weight by spending time to clean up the dorm room on the weekends.

As you sipped your coffee, you scrolled through your phone, and clicked on a song, as grabbed a mop as the song started.

Just take those old records off the shelf  
I'll sit and listen to 'em by myself  
Today's music ain't got the same soul  
I like that old time rock 'n' roll  
Don't try to take me to a disco  
You'll never even get me out on the floor  
In ten minutes I'll be late for the door  
I like that old time rock'n' roll  
As the song played, you slid across the hardwood floor with the wet mop, cleaning the floor and singing along to the song, without a care in the world, wearing an old rock band t-shirt and some pajama shorts and cute little socks.

And just as the second verse of the song was about to start, you heard the door open,. But you didn’t stop mopping.

“Hey, your back early. Thought you wanted to spend more time working on your songs this weekend.” You say, as you look up, expecting to see Evan at the doorway, but instead saw another man, with a little over shoulder length black hair, wearing a black t-shirt and black jeans and black shoes with sunglasses covering his eyes.

“Your not evan?” You say, as you looked at the man, and see his shocked expression turned to an almost pleased expression, as his mouth turned up in a smile, as he took ahold of his sunglasses and moved them off his face and attached the sunglasses to his shirt.

“No I’m not Evan, I’m his dad, Paul.” the man replies, as his face seems familiar to you, as your mouth moves to form an O shape, as you notice that he seemingly was looking you up and down.

“Paul...as in Paul Stanley. Lead Singer and front man of KISS?” You ask rhetorically, as he smirked right back at you.


	2. Chapter 2

You stood there mouth open at him, the wet mop still in your hand, as Old Time Rock n Roll by Bob Seger was still playing over the speakers.

“I must be dreaming.” You said, as you blinked rapidly trying to figure out if what you were seeing was a figment of your imagination or if he was actually standing in the doorway to your dorm room.

“You must be y/n. Evan talks alot about you.” Paul said, as he walked further into the dorm room, and realized that you were still wearing your pajamas.

“Yes I am. I’m just going to uh, change.” You said, as you stammered, over your words, and you propped the mop up against the wall, and dashed back into your bedroom, while Paul just smiled at your reaction.

Once you shut the door to the bedroom, you stripped off the old tshirt that you had been wearing, and scrambled around your room for anything clean.

Anything at all.

You went from taking stuff from your dresser and finding that most of your clothes were in the dirty clothes hamper.

Of course, you forgot that today was laundry day.

So you opted for one of Evan’s shirts and a pair of jeans that you knew you had worn for more than a couple days straight. And pulling your hair up into a ponytail, looking at your reflection in the mirror, making sure you didn’t look like a complete mess before walking out, slipping your feet into sandals.

“I take it Evan isn’t here.” Paul said, as you looked up at him.

Don’t flip out, be normal. He’s a regular person. He’s Evan’s dad, you always wanted to meet Evan’s dad right? Just forgot that he was the lead singer of kiss and -- You thought, as your thoughts were caught off as you noticed him smiling at you.

Crap, he’s got a great smile, i can see where Evan gets his good looks from. You thought, as you cleared your throat to speak.

“He’s actually at one of the recording studios on campus. He likes to go there sometimes to work on projects, and just his own stuff sometimes. I can take you there.” You said, as you walked passed him and he followed you through the huge campus to the arts department.

“You know he’s told me alot about you y/n.” He said as he followed behind you.  
“I hope all good things.” You said, as you tried to focus your brain on the path to the University recording studio, without you thinking about the fact that you probably fantasized too many times about your boyfriend's dad before you were even dating Evan.

“Evan has said nothing but positive things. He’s a pretty honest kid, so if there were something he didn’t agree with you’d be the first to know.” Paul said behind you as you walked into the recording studios.

“He’s usually in room 2, smaller, less room for echoing.” You said, as you walked into the recording studio, and saw a girl in the room, as the girl and Evan parted as if they were burned.

You narrowed your eyes as you looked at Evan who was looking at you surprised, then even more shocked at his dad standing behind you, probably sporting the same look that you were.

“Your dad wanted to surprise you. Didn’t think you would surprise me, ASS!” you said as you turned, feeling the tears coming as your brain clicked into gear on your way back to his dorm room intent on unpacking your belongings from there and putting them back in your dorm room.


	3. Chapter 3

You were so focused you didn’t hear the footsteps behind you, until you got to Evan’s dorm.

“Evan don’t chase me. Anything you have to say isn’t going to work. We’re done.” You said, as you turned around and saw that it was Paul.

“sorry , I thought that you would need help packing up your stuff.” he offered, as you blinked.

“But you're Evan's dad. Why would you help me pack up my stuff?” You asked as he smiled.

“My honest son can be honestly stupid sometimes. And I’m thinking you're going to need help moving before he comes back.” he said, as you unlocked the door and immediately started grabbing your clothes from the drawer that you had.

“Can you grab that crate of records?” You asked, as Paul looked down and saw a crate overflowing in vinyl records.

“These are all yours? I just thought those were Evan’s.” He said as he took the crate in his hands.

“Anything else? Just put it on top.” He said as you took some of your clothes and piled it on top, as your eyes swept over the place, as you grabbed the record player, making sure that you didn’t forget anything, as you left the spare key on the dresser. Both of you walk out and towards your dorm room.

“It was one of the things that I tried to get him to get interested in. And like many things didn’t take. Like this relationship.” You said, nodded towards your record collection.  
\--

You set your belongings down and took your record collection and the rest of your clothes from Paul’s arms.

“Thanks for the help. You should probably go back and check on Evan.” You said, as you started to put away your clothes.

You felt the tears starting to come, just thinking about how long the deception had been going on.

For a short time or for a long time? Everytime that you asked to listen to his music that he was working on and he always said that it wasn’t finished yet. Was going to the studio just a cover this entire time so he could make out with other girls and probably have sex with them before coming back to his dorm to you?

You let a shaky breath out, as you hear the sound of footsteps, as you turn around and see that Paul is still in your dorm room.

“How could I have been so stupid? Not to notice any of that happening. I mean come on how much recording could a person do?” You asked, as you shook your head, as Paul smiled, going to hug you, as his hand moved across your back in a soothing motion.

“y/n, none of this is your fault. Guys, even my son can be idiots.” Paul said, as you cried into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry you're having to deal with this. With me. Evan told me that you were going to come down at some point to meet me and spend time with him. And now this.” You said, as you, pulled away, trying to wipe the tears from your face with little success.

He takes two quick steps toward you until his hands are in your hair and his mouth is on your. You gasp in surprise and grab his shoulders, but you immediately fall into step with him and slide his hands to your neck.”  
“His mouth, coupled with the way his hand is sliding down your arm, is all too much. So much. Good much. So good. you just whimpered. As soon as the sound leaves your mouth, he’s pressing you harder against the wall. His left hand is caressing your cheek and his right hand is gripping you by the waist, pulling you against him. 

I’m finished unpacking. He doesn’t have to leave right this minute. Does he? He really doesn’t. Was all that came to mind, as you parted, taking deep breaths your eyes only focused on his lips that were still so close to yours.

He licked his lips and cleared his throat.

“I shouldn’t have done that I’m sorry. It’s kind of a force of habit, I see a pretty girl crying and well…”  
He said trailing off as he laughed nervously.

“I'm just going to just go. Let you have time to organize yourself.” He said, as he put his sunglasses back over his eyes and walked out of your dorm room.

And all you could do was stare at the door, thinking about how you’d never been kissed like that before, where it took your breath away, and how you wanted to be kissed like that again, specifically by Evan’s dad.


	4. Chapter 4

A week later…

You were organizing your record collection, since the move back everything was out of order. Flipping through them and seeing a piece of paper sticking out of one, thinking that it was the paper cover that covered the record, taking the record out to fix it.

And seeing that it was a KISS record. You smiled, immediately looking at the record and popping it into the record player, and pulling a piece of paper out of the cover.

Call me whenever, I’m always available to talk -Paul the message read, followed by what you presumed to be his cell phone number.

You smiled at the note, thinking about the week before and the kiss, as you disregarded your record collection, getting your phone out and dialing his number.

“Hey, I just found your note.” You said, smiling and feeling giddy like you haven’t in a long time.  
\--

You ended up talking for awhile, and coming to the conclusion that you should meet up for lunch in a couple days.

You sat down at a table outside on the patio, just as Paul arrived, going to sit across from you.

“How have you been? You looked kinda stressed. I mean well last time I saw you, you weren’t in the best terms but..”Paul trailed off as you shook your head, as you glanced at your email.

“It’s just university. I’m coming up on the deadline of my monthly payment. Everytime it stresses me out. It’s been like this for 4 years. It's not enough that I work on campus as a work study but I also work on the stands on campus when I’m not in class as well. And I’m looking into getting my master’s degree which means even more money that I don’t have. Even though I have no idea if I’ll get accepted into the program.” You said, as you clicked your phone off, trying to get your mind off financials.

“Really pressed for money, I’ve been there I know the feeling.” Paul said, as you looked at him, not taking him seriously.

“Yes, says the multimillionaire guitar player.” You reply, as he laughs, clicking on his phone and texting someone or writing down a note, you couldn’t tell.

“I wasn’t exactly born into money or have the talent I do now, I know what it’s like to scrape by to make a dream happen” Paul continued

“Well beside your helpful move out session , what else has been going on in the world of Paul Stanley?” you asked, trying to get your mind off the impending tuition bill that is looming in the back of your mind.

“not much honestly enjoying this time off before another giant tour starts up, kinda bored, no one to keep me company” paul says, as your suddenly feeling like this isn’t just a friendly lunch from his standpoint.

“well I know someone that may have a lot of free time soon if they can’t get school figured out that would like to hang out with a cool rock star” you joked darkly, as you laughed humorlessly, as Paul sat opposite of you looking like he has something on his mind, as the server comes by with menus, giving you something to distract yourself with.

“well that person is welcome at any time , even now if they’d like” you heard Paul say behind his menu, as you looked over yours and saw that he was look intently at his, as if it was the most fascinating thing that he had ever seen, as you went back to looking at yours, more thoughts rolling through your head now other than the tuition bill at his offer to spend time with him

\--  
You walked to the financial aid office, check in hand, knowing that you would have to survive on ramen noodles probably for the rest of the academic year at this point with the tuition raises. Once at the front of the line you went to an attendant at the window, passing over your i.d. Card and the check.

After some typing on the attendant’s end they pass you back your i.d. Card and the check. You looked at it and passed back teh check thinking they made a mistake.

“No miss, your tuition has been paid in full already.” the attendant said as you quickly looked at the email that was sent a day ago about the amount that you were supposed to pay.

“I don’t understand. I got an email yesterday that my monthly payment was due.” you said, as the attendant started clicking on the desktop computer that was in front of them.

“Pass me back your i.d. Card. I’ll triple check.” they said, as you passed it back to them.

“Yep, no mistake it was paid off yesterday afternoon.” the attendant said as they swiveled the screen in your direction, as you looked at the time, as your eyes went huge.

“I swear to god.” You said, as you plastered a smile on your face.

“Thank you so much.” you said as you walked away, smile gone, as you went in your bag, rooting around for your car keys.  
\--  
You knew that he had a property somewhere in New York City, and since he had taken lunch with you only yesterday, that he still had to be here and not in Los Angeles.

You dialed his number angrily and put it on speaker phone.

“Hey y/n, what’s up?” you heard, and you could practically hear him smiling.

“You know what’s up, now tell me where you're staying. You're still in New York right?” you asked, as you heard chuckle over the phone.

“Yes I’m still here, knew that I would be expecting a call from you soon.” he said, as you rolled your eyes.

“Tell me your address now.” You said, as you heard him chuckle.

“Your authoritative, I like that.” he said, as there was a pause and then he gave you his address, which wasn’t that far from NYC, which figured, since Evan went to the university. Of course Paul would have a property that was close by.

\--  
You clicked the gate code, watching as the iron gate opened as you drove your car through, almost losing your shit at the size of the property.

You had seen what his L.A. property looked like and never thought that you would have seen this place in person. It was just as big and impressive as the L.A. property.

You parked the car, and got out just as the massive front doors opened, revealing Paul, as he stared out at you, as you grabbed your bag, feeling his eyes on you as you walked up to the doors.

“You paid for my tuition.” You said simply, as he smiled.

“Yes, and?” he said, as you were still trying to process this. Because you knew it was him before you even left the university campus, but to hear him actually admit it was another thing.

“YOU PAID FOR MY ENTIRE TUITION!” You shouted, as he pulled you into the house, as you looked at the hand that he had placed on your shoulder, as he took it away, closing the front door behind you.

“Don’t want the neighbors asking questions, voices can echo you know?” he said, as he turned and started walking further into the expansive house, as you followed him, furious.

“You paid for my entire tuition yesterday when we were out to lunch. Is that why you were on your phone?” You asked, as you realized that he led you into a room that looked like an office, as he went to sit down at the desk. 

“Yes I did. Because I have the money to do so, and from what you said you’ve been working your ass off to be in that school. And apply for your master’s degree as well. You know that’s like 6 figures at least by the time that you're done, right?” he asked, as you narrowed your eyes.

“Yes I know how much it costs, but I’m not taking your charity because you feel bad that your son was cheating on me with skanks on campus.” You said, as you just look at him, as he’s smiling.

“I know that. That’s why I have a proposition for you. I need a new assistant. I have some work coming up, and I need someone that can help me. And the plus is that you would be going on tour during the summer. We can work out your schedule so you can help me around the times that you aren’t in class.” he said, as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Are you offering me a job?” You ask, not really understanding.

“In exchange for the tuition. But I’ll still be paying you as well. Evan’s told me about your love of music and from your record collection that I saw you would be helpful even in the recording studio.” Paul said, as you felt excitement bubble up in you.

You get to go on tour with KISS, and be his personal assistant? What is wrong with this situation? You thought, as you took a breath.

He would probably pay you what the work-study would probably would plus your other job on campus combined and then some. And you needed the money to pay for your dorm anyhow, especially if you were going to be accepted into that master’s program.

“Sure why not?” you said, as he smiled and narrowed his eyes at you.

“Had a feeling you would accept.” He said, as he shifted in the seat.

“I’ll have my lawyer draw up a contract and send it to you. Just a standard non-disclosure form since you’ll be involved in projects before they are released.” he explained, as you nodded.

“Ok, so I guess I’ll see you whenever?” you said, as he got up out of the seat.

“Yes, you can come by drop the contract off, give you time to look it over anyways, and then you can start, just make sure you have a clear idea about your schedule so I know when you can come here to work.” He said, as he lead you out the office and out the front door, as he watched you walk to your car.

“I can’t wait to work with you y/n. I think we are going to have fun together.” He said, as you nodded, opening your car door and getting it and starting the car, looking back at the rearview mirror and saw that he already closed the door. As you thought back about how 10 minutes ago you were furious yelling at him, and then he up and offered you a job and paid your college tuition in full for the year.

\--  
You were surprised when there was a knock at your two days later, a man at the door holding a manila envelope that was thick.  
“Are you Miss y/n?” he asked, as you nodded, as the man handed the envelope to you, as you gave him some money for his troubles, closing the door behind you and opening the envelope finding a giant stack of papers, as you felt like your eyes were going to pop out of your head, as you flipped through it.

“Well this is just a non-disclosure and probably hire paperwork..” You said as you flipped and saw that there was another stack that was definitely the normal w-4 form for tax purposes as well. You quickly signed the non-disclosure form and then grabbed the two forms of identification as you went to go to Paul’s place to give him the completed paperwork and talk about your schedule to figure out when you would start as his assistant.  
\--  
You drive up and again, he’s already opening the door to the house, as you walk through, and sit down on the seat opposite his at the desk, as you set the folder down. You watch him take the folder in his hands taking the papers out, as he flips through them and notices where you signed and initialed in the correct places.

“You signed it.” he said simply, but you could tell that he was surprised.

“Yes, and I have my two forms of identification for the w-4 paperwork.” you said as you shuffled through your bag to get him.

“That’s interesting.” he said, as you grabbed the two forms of i.d. And looked up at him, as he was smiling at you, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Did you know what you signed?” he asked, as you answered simply. 

“Well you said it was a non-disclosure form since I’m going to be your assistant. So I don’t blab to everyone the projects that you would be working on before they are released to the public.” you stated, as he smiled.

“Yes, and there was more. This was a test and you failed y/n. I thought you would have taken the time to read the document.” He said, as you felt your heart race at this new bit of information.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, as he looked down at the document, flipping to a certain portion.

“In agreement as repayment of college tuition I (y/n ) agree to the following terms: Section I: A. will occupy Mr Stanley to all business events/ social events and touring. B. Will handle all arrangements to said events , schedule business meets. Section 2: A.Y/n will be available to Mr. Stanley at any time for sexual encounters, that are in the comfort of both parties. B. Will visit doctors routinely for healthy check ups and follow doctors orders for prescription birth control. C. Will be available weekends and whenever called upon at anytime, as negotiated with y/n’s predetermined schedule. Failure to follow these terms will void all future payments of college tuition for the listed person.” he closes the stack of papers and looks at you, as you feel the air leave your lungs, as you get up and hear his chair move against the hardwood floor.

 

He places one hand gently on your shoulder, turning you to look into the mirror on the far wall. He’s standing behind you, looming like a giant.

Your breath finds an even pace while you stare at each other in the mirror.  
“If you want this we’re going to have to set some ground rules. Is this something you’re interested in?” He asks, placing a hand on your shoulder, squeezing as his eyes study the reflection.  
“Y-yes.” You can barely speak.  
“It won’t ever be anything more than this, just transactional satisfaction. I’ll take what I want when I want it. You understand?”  
“Yes.” You respond succinctly.  
“Good.” He gives you one final look and steps away. “Sit down.”  
He gestures toward the chair across from his desk.  
He scribbles something on a sticky note and hands it to you. It’s an address with no context.  
“What is this?” You ask as you clear your throat, finding composure.  
“My personal physician. Be there tomorrow at 2:30. I’ll have an appointment scheduled for you.” He checks his phone, unhappy with whatever he reads and places it screen down on his desk.  
“A doctor?”  
“I don’t leave anything to chance.” He rests both forearms on his desk. “I don’t fuck with a condom. If you want to take this further, I have certain non-negotiables. I need to know you’re on birth control and that you’re clean.”  
You thought you’d reached your capacity for shame but this is a whole new level. You almost choke, clutching both hands together in your lap.  
“I-I’m on the pill.” It’s the only viable thought you can manage.  
“That’s not good enough for me. You can understand why can’t you?” His fingers strum the files on his desk as he awaits your response.  
You understand the logic, all you’d have to do is forget to take a pill or skip it on purpose if you wanted to. There’s the feminist part of your brain that wants to tell him to get fucked. He can’t order you around and assume you’re just going to do everything he wants. But there’s another part, a stronger part, that wants to see where this could go. It’s not like you can’t say no. You could walk out of this building and never look back. He’d let you go.  
But offering your submission is your own version of control. You have to comply in order for this to work. It’s a two way street and you’re the one who gets the final say.  
“I understand.” You nod, meeting his stare. “I’ll be there at 2:30.”  
“You are interesting.” A smirk crossed his face. “We’re going to enjoy each other.”  
“What else is there? You said you had non-negotiables, was it just the doctor?” You want to know exactly what you’re getting yourself into.  
“You can’t ever tell another living soul about what happens between us.” He gets up from his chair and saunters around the desk, sitting on the edge, directly in front of you. “If you want me to stop, you tell me. But once we stop, we won’t continue. Ever. You understand?”  
“Yes,” you nod, watching his fingers curl under the edge of the desk.  
“You can’t fuck anyone else.”  
“Alright.” You agree. The truth is you’d agree to just about anything to have him touch you again. But there is one term of your own that you need to outline. “What about you? If you expect me to let you…”  
“Cum inside you?” His finishes, a hint of amusement in his voice as you blush for the hundredth time.  
“Yes.” You choke out. “Then I have to be your only partner too.”  
“Agreed.” He shrugs with an easy confirmation. You’re not sure it's the response you expected but it wasn’t unacceptance.  
“Good.” You breathe.  
“Good.” He mimics, his eyes dropping over your body from head to toe. He leans back and taps the call button on his desk phone. Before you have time to prepare a man comes into the room.  
“Everything alright in here?” He asks, coming to stand beside the chair you’re sitting in. He gets a look at your face and forces a smile at Paul.  
“Y/N is going to be my new assistant.” He disregards the man’s question, getting up to move back behind his desk.  
“New assistant?” He looks from you to Paul.  
“yes.” Paul looks at you, locking eyes and refusing to look away. There’s a now familiar tingle between your legs. “I have more projects that I need help with, and some things that I’m going to be working on that need to be kept under wraps for a bit. Y/N has proven her ability to remain discreet. She’ll need access to the house, warehouse, and unrestricted security pass. I’ll let you know what else as the situation evolves.”  
“Of course.” the man nods. “Anything else?”  
“No. You’re both free to go.” He waves his hands, opening his laptop.  
You get up, ready to follow the man out, who you assume was a personal guard out of the room but stop for a moment. “Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Stanley.”  
His eyes shoot up from the screen, mouth tightening. “I’m sure you’ll prove yourself. And don’t call me Mr. Stanley, that’s my father”  
With one final look, you walk out of his office. This is surreal, you want to pinch yourself and slap your cheeks just to make sure you’re really awake.

“You're his new assistant. He hasn’t had one in a long time. Just don’t come crying to me when he loses his temper.” He laughs dryly. “I’ll have your new credentials by the end of the day. I’ll send them to the address that he gave me earlier”   
And just like that, your entire life is about to change.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been a week, a whole week of getting used to being his assistant and waiting for the other requests to start. Which made you both anxious and excited everyday thinking that it would come. You do your very best to act like nothing has changed when inside it feels like gravity has reversed. Up is down and right is wrong. Everything is different.  
It’s just after three on Friday afternoon. He canceled his monthly employee engagement meeting twice because of the workload, but it’s been rescheduled for four o'clock today. Two hours and you’ll be out of here for the weekend. You’re working to finish writing up notes. Perks of this job are that when you weren’t working on stuff for Paul whether it be answering or answering emails, or combing through his social media, it gave you time to work on your own work.  
You hear footsteps coming in your direction, and you pop your head up and look at the guard. You’ve been trying to get his name for the past week, and you still didn’t know it. He was holding a stack of mail, combing through it, setting the important ones on your desk, as he went to step away.  
“This one’s for you. I don’t know where it came from.” he said, as he set the thick envelope on your desk.  
“Thanks.” You take it, turning the feather-light package over in your hands.  
There’s a small envelope taped to the front that’s stamped confidential in bright red block letters. Ensuring that he’s gone, you open it, removing the single piece of paper from inside.  
Open in private.  
That’s all it says, but the message is handwritten. This is Paul, it has to be.  
Taking the envelope you go to one of the bathrooms and lock yourself inside, checking the door twice. Hands shaking, you tear it open and reach inside only to pull out a pair of red panties. Not exactly a thong, but there’s not much to them.  
Searching in the envelope you find another note at the bottom.  
Put these on and come to my office.  
You step into your new gift, pulling them into place and throwing away the evidence before making your way to his office in the back of the house.  
The guard is standing outside the office as you approach, glaring at you with confused hostility. “What are you doing here?”  
“He asked for me.” You gesture toward the closed door of Paul’s office.  
“ The hour before the company meeting is always his prep time. No exceptions.”  
“I don’t know what to tell you. He told me to come to his office.” You shrug.  
“Y/N is here for you.” he announces your presence. There’s an immediate reply.  
“Send her in. Hold everything. No interruptions.” Paul’s voice commands from inside the office.  
You enter, just as the door closes and you hear the guard leave, probably to make his rounds around the property knowing that you both were in the same vicinity.  
Paul’s standing in the middle of his large office, reading from an iPad. He’s rehearsing.  
“Hello.” The door clicks shut and you stop where you are, standing by the door.  
“Hello.” He parrots back, removing his glasses and setting them, along with his tablet, on the coffee table.  
He appraises you, looking you over, head to toe as his eyes narrow. “You got a haircut.”  
“Just a trim.” Your fingers twist into the ends of your hair. “Is that a problem?”  
“No, but I would prefer if you start wearing it up when you’re at work.” He studies you thoughtfully. “It can be down, like this, when you’re with me.”  
“Okay,” you agree.  
“I have one more piece of business we need to get out of the way before we can move forward.” He gestures to the paper on the desk. You move to get a better look, only to find it’s a contract.  
A copy of the contract that you already signed.  
“It’s a copy of the contract?” You look at him, unable to hide your surprise.  
“Read it over again, then sign it, that other copy was just the draft before, since that was the test, but I thought those articles should still apply.” He leans towards you, sliding the paper away from you, almost to the opposite side of the desk.  
“Now?”  
“Yes.” He takes a step closer, his eyes dropping down to your midsection. “Are you wearing what I sent you?”  
“Yes.”  
“Good. Now, why don’t you look over the agreement.” He turns you around, big hands curling over your hips until you face the desk.  
Oh. You get it now.  
You have to lean over the desk, your feet nearly leaving the ground, to be able to reach the document. He’s quiet behind you as you pull yourself together enough to read the first paragraph. He wasn’t kidding, this was a different copy, a legally binding contract that started with an explanation of how any and all conversations and interactions between the two parties are to be kept confidential.  
There are two hands on the outside of your legs, sliding under the hem of your skirt. You suck in a breath, fingers curling against the desk as he begins to lift the material up. “Do you have any questions?”  
“I-I um,” you skim the rest of the paper. It’s basically a gag order, you tell anyone about this little arrangement and Paul can ruin your life, and your future career prospects. “This is what we talked about before.”  
“Yes.” He purrs, successfully pulling your skirt up over your round little ass. The pads of his fingers trail along the edge of your panties. “Sign it.”  
You pick up a pen off the desk and scribble your name at the bottom without a second thought.  
“You’re good at taking orders today.” One of his hands grabs the globe of your ass, kneading the flesh. “Stand up and undress, everything except these.” He gives you a pat on the ass and you stand up, turning to find him watching you intently.  
You have to look away from his eyes as you pull your sweater off, then unzip your skirt and step out of it. Willing a steady hand you reach behind your back, unhooking your bra and letting it fall to the ground.  
His office is cold and your nipples are rock hard within seconds as you stand there, practically naked, on display. “Would you like me to keep my heels on?”  
“What did I say?” His eyes tick up from your breast to give you an annoyed tip of his head.  
“Right,” you whisper, slipping off your pumps, toes curling against the wood flooring of his office.  
“Turn around.” He twirls his finger in the air.  
Slowly, you rotate in a small circle, letting him have a view of your body from every angle before facing him head-on.  
“You have a beautiful body.” He comments matter-of-factly.  
“Thank you.” Your response is barely audible.  
Every time you’re with him, his very presence elicits anxious arousal that’s wholly unique. Despite his demeanor, he makes you feel more wanted than any man you’ve ever been with.  
“Tell me, Y/N. Do you like sucking cock?” A grin tugs at his mouth, one hand shoved in his pocket.  
Your entire body goes hot, quaking excitement sparks in your veins. This can go one of two ways, you can melt into a puddle on the floor or you can pull yourself together and act as if you’ve actually given a blowjob before.  
You find your voice, lifting your chin.  
“Yes, I love it.” You lock eyes with him.  
“We’re about to see just how much you love it.” His tongue darts out, licking his bottom lip. “Over here, on your knees.”  
Walking to him you get close enough to smell his aftershave, staring up at him for a second before dutifully dropping down, kneeling at his feet. You reach for his belt, but think better of it. “Should I?”  
“Stay just like you are until I tell you to move.” He reaches down, trailing his thumb lightly over your cheek before unbuckling his belt, the subtle sounds of leather sliding against metal are all you can hear.  
He unzips himself, jeans dropping to his thighs, revealing plain boxer briefs underneath and the massive bulge of his cock. He palms his erection through his underwear and you watch, spellbound by the sheer size of him.  
“Do you want it?” He asks evenly. You wait a moment, before you look upward to find him staring down at you, eyes glazed with lust.  
“Yes,” your pussy is soaked, aching between your thighs.  
“Beg me for it.”  
You whimper, looking from his face to his hand rubbing his dick.  
“Please let me suck your cock.” It’s forced this first time, you’ve never actually asked to give a blow job before. But Paul is all about firsts, it’s his specialty. The moment the words leave your mouth, there’s a throb growing stronger, your empty cunt clenching in anticipation.  
“You can do better than that.” He shakes his head.  
“Please,” you sit up a little, looking up at him and giving in to your own need. You do want it and you only have to tell him to get what you want. “Please, I want your cock in my mouth. I wanna choke on you, take you in my throat. Please let me suck your cock.”  
“That’s better.” He spits, shoving his boxers out of the way as his dick springs upward, bobbing in front of your face. “Open up.”  
You don’t wait, just wrap your lips around the swollen head of his cock, sucking as if your life depends on it. He grunts and you take it as a sign of approval, sliding your tongue along the underside of his shaft. He’s huge, thicker than any man you’ve encountered before. You’d guessed from his stature that he was well endowed but this is something else altogether.  
Cupping his balls in one hand and gripping the base of his length with the other, you begin to bob up and down, taking more and more with each pass. It’s not long before he’s tapping the back of your throat. Now it’s time to show him just how much you really want this.  
Taking a breath you prepare yourself for the burn, letting him slide as far down your throat as you can bear. You hold him there, letting the muscles of your throat flutter around his cock before pulling back to take a breath as spit drips down your chin. Two lungfuls of air and you’re right back at it, bobbing like before only letting him slide deep with each stroke.  
You feel a hand on your hair, twisting his fingers into your locks to get a tight grip. He pulls you back, painfully yanking on your scalp.  
“Deep breath.” He instructs as you gasp like you’re about to dive underwater. He pushes you back onto his cock, shoving his hips forward and lodging himself right back in your throat, holding you there. His free hand reaches down, rubbing over the bulge of his cock in your throat. “Relax. Breathe through your nose and relax.”  
You manage another two inches, gurgling on his cock, drool running down your chin, eyes watering before he finally releases you.  
“I can do better.” You sputter, wiping your mouth, looking up at him. “I can take it all.”  
“Ambitious.” He grins, a first genuine expression you’ve seen so far.  
“Please, help me.” The words help me trigger something in him, his eyes narrow, mouth tightening.  
“You’re gonna to stay still while I fuck your mouth, you understand?”  
“Yes.” You nod, dropping your jaw open and sticking out your tongue. If you didn’t feel a whore before there’s no escaping it now. It’s a feeling that you didn’t know you craved, didn’t know you needed so badly, until he came along.  
He grabs a handful of hair in each hand and forces his cock back into your waiting mouth, punching his hips forward at a comfortable pace. Every third or fourth stroke he pushes deeper and deeper until every thrust is testing your limits. And right when you think you can’t take anymore, he pulls you forward, pressing with unrelenting force as you fight the gag and your nose presses into his neatly trimmed pubic hair.  
He rewards your efforts by pulling back for a moment before repeating the thrust. Then he does it again and again until your face meets the skin above his cock with every thrust. His soft grunts are closer and closer together. You wonder if he’ll cum right down your throat, but just as he’s nearing his peak he yanks your head away, leaving you gasping, mouth open and eyes watering.  
“Up,” he uses his grip on your hair to lift you off the ground, backing you up until he can reach behind your hips to brace his hands on the desk.  
He pulls your panties down around your thighs, bending his knees as he jerks himself. The tip of his cock is between your legs, an inch away from your dripping pussy and all you can think about is how badly you wish he’d turn you over and slide inside-  
He cums with a muted groan, pressing the head of his dick into the crotch of your panties, shooting pearly ropes of cum until his spunk is thoroughly coating the red lace.  
You’re panting, chin still wet from sucking his cock as you look down at his seed pooled in your underwear. He leans over, plucking a tissue and wiping the tip of his cock before tucking himself back inside his boxers.  
You’re frozen as he reaches down and pulls ruined lace back into place, allowing you to feel the obscene wetness of his load pressed against your aching pussy. He pats you twice as if to say job well done before hiking his pants back up.  
“Get dressed.” He doesn’t even look at you, tucking his shirt back in. “If you make it through the meeting without squirming too much, I’ll let you cum once it’s over.”  
You can’t speak. Paul goes back to reviewing his notes without another word and you wander into the bathroom, taking stock of yourself in the mirror. After several minutes of dabbing at your makeup and smoothing your hair back, you manage to look somewhat presentable but all you can think about is the thick mess between your legs.  
When you emerge from the bathroom he’s adjusting his glasses in the mirror, glancing up to appraise his handiwork.  
“Should I go?” You ask, squeezing your legs together.  
“No. You’ll stay with me,” he instructs as there’s a knock on his office door. “Come in.”  
“It’s time. You have to leave now if you want to be on time.” The guard says as he steps inside.  
“I’m ready.” He confirms, looking to you as he heads out. “Lets go.” As you both walk with the guard to the car, as you sit in the back, as Paul sits in the passenger seat, dreading the next hour or two.  
\--  
The monthly meeting is less a traditional meeting and more a presentation. A thousand employees pack into the auditorium to listen to Paul and Gene talk about the future of the band and the production of products, where they’re headed and how each person is an integral piece of the puzzle. Pauls an engaging speaker, his success speaks for itself, but seeing him on stage is a whole other animal.  
Other members of the board of directors are often on stage, sitting in chairs, watching and nodding in approval. The guard is always directly behind him, arms folded into his lap, transfixed or at least faking it to seem like he’s focused on the speech and watching everywhere and everything.  
Someone from IT is hooking a mic pack onto the back of Paul’s jeans. You look around, unsure if you’re meant to stay backstage or find a seat in the audience with everyone else, when Paul turns back to you, cocking an eyebrow.  
“What are you doing?” He snaps his fingers. “Come on.”   
By the time you walk out onto the stage there’s a smattering of applause rising from the audience. An extra seat is placed next to the guard’s chair and you sit down as Paul begins to speak.  
The employees here are engaged. KISS isn’t just a band but a progressive company that offers competitive benefits and obscene salaries for anyone who’s willing to work hard and put in the hours.   
There are two spotlights above the stage shining down onto you, hot as the noon time sun. After five minutes you’re sweating, and after twenty it takes everything you’ve got to stay still in your seat. For an hour you do your best to just sit there in front of an audience of people, with Paul’s cum wet and warm between your legs.  
Just when you think you can’t take anymore, there’s a round of applause and you realize he’s done. You jump up to follow him, happy to be out of the public view. He stops in the wings, turning to the guard.  
“Wait here.” He instructs. “Y/N, with me.”  
There’s a small, windowless room to the right of the stage. It’s big enough for a table, two chairs and not much else. Paul shuts the door behind you, reaching for a lock but there is none. There are crystal clear voices just outside the room, there’s no privacy in here.  
“Stand here.” He points and you comply, walking toward him, resting your back against the unlocked door. He pulls your skirt up, snaking his hand underneath, wedging between the sticky flesh of your thighs. “Were you paying attention out there?”  
His voice is low, just loud enough for you to hear.  
“No.” You murmur as his fingers slip inside your panties, pressing over the mound of your sex, then lower. “I was so hot I-I couldn’t pay attention.”  
“Is that why?” He smirks, stepping closer. He’s sweating, just the same as you, body heat radiating off him. “Next time I expect you to take notes. There’ll be a quiz afterward.”  
“I’ll do better.” You nod, mouth falling open.  
“You have homework this weekend.” His eyes are relentless, he’s so close you can feel his breath on your cheek. His fingers are playing over your sex, the tips just barely pushing between the lips of your pussy.  
“I’m a good student.” You mean it honestly and his eyes narrow, looking at your mouth with a carnal hunger that you’re getting to know well.  
“Every morning, and every night, I want you touch yourself. Make yourself wet but don’t cum. No orgasms until the next time I see you. Understood?”  
“Understood.” You swallow, your pussy throbbing, begging for him to slide inside and offer relief.  
“You did well today.” He cooes, leaning forward, pressing the weight of his body against you, pinning you to the door. “You’re a mess down here. Did this turn you on? Feeling my cum between your legs with everyone watching?”  
“Yes.” You whimper, legs shivering.  
“Do you want me to make you cum now?” His mouth is against your ear, the heat of his body nearly suffocating. He’s big and heavy, you couldn’t move if you wanted to.  
“Yes, please.” Panting you try to open your legs further. You want him to shove his fingers inside you, to bend you over and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk.  
“No more talking.” He hisses. “Don’t make a sound.”  
His middle finger dips into your cunt, but only enough to wet the tip before finding your clit. He rubs you firm and even, up and down, up and down over your throbbing apex as you struggle to suppress the urge to moan. It doesn’t take much, maybe a minute of his finger working diligently until your orgasm builds and explodes. He clasps his free hand over your mouth, the weight of him pushing the breath right of your lungs while you whimper into the palm of his hand, empty cunt clenching again and again.  
He removes his finger from your clit, cupping your pussy with his whole hand between your legs, gasping in his hand as he keeps you in place, silent and struggling to stay upright. If he weren’t supporting your weight, you’d already be on the floor.  
“Say thank you.” He whispers, taking his hand away from your mouth, placing it on the wall beside your head. Pulling back he looks at you, that intense gaze that gets you every time. The hand cupping over your sensitive cunt gives a gentle squeeze and you flinch in response.  
“T-Thank you.” You mutter, throat bobbing, swallowing hard.  
“You’re welcome.” He steps back, relieving you of his hands and body as you nearly wilt to the floor, barely managing to stay upright. He takes a moment, smoothing out his shirt, before giving you a final look and then he’s gone.


	6. Chapter 6

That Friday night, after a quick run and pre-packaged dinner you settle in for a quiet night at home. If you go out, it’s always on a Saturday, Fridays are typically reserved for decompression, a little self-care, and Netflix.  
It’s almost midnight when you finally shut off the TV, but don’t move off the couch. Paul’s homework has been on your mind since you left, dazed and confused, earlier that afternoon.  
It’s an interesting prospect, the idea that his control reaches outside of your in-person meetings. He wants to work his way into your everyday routine, little reminders of his ability to get you to follow orders. You don’t have to do anything, he’d probably never know the difference. He’s only able to exert as much control as you’re willing to give up and you can recognize the power in that.  
But there is something appealing about the idea of giving these pieces of yourself to him. There’s something about the concept of obeying orders that appeals to a part of your desires that are suddenly alive and vying for control.  
Lying back on the couch you snake a hand inside your pajama pants, rubbing your clit, remembering how it felt when he was touching you. It doesn’t take long, just a few minutes of letting your mind wander and fingers stoke. It’s not long before all too familiar need blossoms between your legs. Dipping a finger into your pussy you’re not all surprised at how wet you are. It feels like you’ve been in a state of arousal since your first encounter, neediness that grows with each passing day.  
Using your own slick you go back to touching yourself, bringing your body right to the edge before removing your hand. You give yourself a minute, allowing your body to calm down and then resume the touch, edging yourself again. And then again. You almost cum, it’s a close call but right before you’re about to tip over that edge you pull your hand away, legs clenched together, teeth sunk into your bottom lip.  
That night you lay in bed in frustration, pussy aching with no relief in sight. You don’t touch yourself again until the following morning when you complete the task again, edging twice before getting up for the day. By the time the weekend is over you’re a desperate mess ready to do just about anything to find relief.  
-  
Monday becomes Tuesday and there’s still no word from Paul. Attempting to focus on work is a task in and of itself because you’re living in constant anticipation of what his next move might be.  
By Thursday you’re sure Paul’s homework is designed to kill you. You’ve almost given in half a dozen times, desperate for orgasm but somehow summoning enough resolve to not indulge. But you’re not sure how much longer you can keep it up.  
Your phone vibrates in your purse and you retrieve it, looking at a text message from an unknown number.  
Come to my office. Bring your phone.  
You nearly jump out of your seat, phone in hand as you jog to his office. Every time you’ve been with him it’s a different experience and today will no doubt be something new.  
The door to Paul’s office is open. You approach, listening to Paul’s voice as you pop your head in the door with a gentle knock on the doorframe. Paul’s on the phone, but looks up, motioning for you to come inside. You had a feeling like you should have been present for the call to take notes for him, as you watch waiting for him to yell at you for not coming sooner..  
“That’s fine - I just don’t want to get caught up in something we’re not prepared for - I understand - That’s no problem - I’ll see you next week - you too.”  
He turns to you. “Set up a meeting with him next week. It needs to be in-person, so if he can’t come to me I’ll need the necessary arrangements to go to California.”  
“Of course,” you nod, trying to flip through your phone to figure out who he’s talking about, as your fingers swipe over your phone quickly taking notes.   
Paul looks to you, his tongue darting out over his lower lip. “Are you free right now, Y/N?”  
“Of course.” You offer feeling like this secret between the two of you, wanting to make your burst.   
“Wonderful.” He quips, plucking his jacket from the back of the chair. “I’ll be back in an hour.” he says, as you notice that the guard was standing outside the door, as Paul starts walking.  
You follow as he walks out of the office, never exactly sure of what he expects.   
“How are you?” He asks, looking forward.  
“Frustrated.” You answer honestly.  
“Sounds like you completed the tasks I gave you.” The comment sounds off-handed as if he’s talking about the weather while he adjusts his watch, as he continues walking, as you notice that he intends to go outside the house.  
“I did. It was challenging.” You said, as you followed behind him.  
“I wouldn’t have picked you for my special project if I didn’t think you weren’t up for a challenge.” He turns toward you, looking you over in approval. “Besides, that was just the beginning. We’re going to test all kinds of limits.”  
“Where are we going?”  
“There.” He points towards the back of the house.  
“You’re taking me towards the backyard?” You asked, as he smiled, continuing walking.  
“I wanted to get out of the office, and whenever that happens I usually go to the studio. Work on music, since there isn’t anything going on.” Paul explained.  
–  
He opens the door to the small building. It’s significantly smaller than the house, but big in your mind in terms of a studio. All manner of different guitars litter it, as well as chairs, a keyboard and music stands.  
He turns back to look at you, taking a seat on a small couch next to the coffee machine.  
“It’s nice.” It’s hard to make small talk, not when all you can think about is whether he’ll put his hands on you again. “Why did you bring me here?”  
“I wanted to get out of my office.” He shrugs, palm ghosting over the crotch of his pants. “Take your clothes off.”  
Here we go.  
You strip on command, shedding your clothes until you’re completely naked, standing in front of him with arms at your sides.  
“You wore your hair up.” He smiles approvingly.  
“Everyday, since you asked me to. Would you like me to take it down?”  
He nods his head in confirmation. You pull out the pins holding the bun in place, letting hair fall around your shoulders.  
“How many times did you masturbate between the last time you were with me and today?” Paul has a way of asking this kind of filthy question like he wants to know what you’re having for lunch.  
“Every morning and night, just like you told me to.”  
“Did you let yourself cum?”  
“No.”  
“What did you think about when you touched yourself?” His head tilts to the side, staring at your tits. You blush, looking at the floor and he corrects you instantly. “Look at me when I’m asking a question.”  
You snap to attention, a familiar tingle blooming between your legs.  
“I thought about the way you touch me, how you talk to me.” You have to shift your weight from one foot to the other, feeling vulnerable on multiple levels. “All the things I want you to do to me.”  
“What kinds of things?” His fingers playing over his belt buckle, eyes never leaving you.  
“I want you to touch me, fuck me, cum on me.” You force yourself to confess more. “It makes me wonder what else I’d like.”  
“We’re going to find out.” His eyes hone in on you, curling a finger for you to come to him. He sits up as you stand in front of him. His hand slides between your legs, slapping your thighs apart. “Wider.”  
You adjust your stance, as he reaches between your legs, pressing his thumb over your clit. At the pressure your eyes roll back into your head, a whimper escaping.  
His thumb continues to rub, while his middle and index finger slide along your slit, pushing in with just the tips. “What do you want most right now?”  
“Something inside of me.” You whimper, hands clenching at your sides.  
“When you were touching yourself, did you fill yourself up?”  
“Yes,” You nod. His fingers are stroking lightly over your sex.  
“What did you use? Your fingers?” He looks up at you, awaiting a response.  
“Yes…and…a vibrator.” You manage to choke out.  
“From now on, nothing goes in your pussy unless it’s my fingers or my cock. Understood?”  
“Yes,” you nod, teeth sinking into your lower lip.  
His hand leaves your body, and you open your eyes, looking down at him. He gets one glance at the desperation on your face and chuckles as he undoes his belt.  
“I’m going to let you use my cock.” He explains, sliding his jeans down, then his underwear as his thick cock springs upward, curved toward his stomach, as he pulls his shirt up. “No fucking, just rub your pussy on me until you cum.”  
You’re excited and ashamed but ready to do almost anything to get some relief. “Okay.”  
He grabs your hips as you straddle his lap. You have to watch to line yourself up, trapping his cock between your crotch and his stomach. You slide your pussy along the underside of his shaft as you roll your hips up and down, coating his length in slick. The feeling of anything other than your own fingers almost does you in with one pass. The swollen crown of his cock catches under the hood of your clit and you let it press back and forth, up and down against the V under the head of his dick before going back to the long strokes, letting the length of him slide between the dripping lips of your cunt.  
In no time he’s coated in your arousal, allowing you to easily slide over him, your clit throbbing, aching at the constant drag. It takes every ounce of self-restraint not to mount him and sink down on his dick.  
“I’m gonna cum.” You rasp, bracing as your fingers curl into the thick muscle of his shoulders.  
“Go ahead.” He grunts, watching intently as you rub yourself up and down his cock.  
Pleasure racks every inch of your body with the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life. All those early mornings and late nights teasing yourself, culminate in this one burst of pleasure that has you shaking from the force of the release. You can’t help the moan that erupts from your throat as you cum so hard you can barely see straight. When it’s finally over you slump forward, resting your forehead on his shoulder, pussy twitching and pulsing against his erection.  
“Thank you.” You whisper and he pats your ass cheek in response.  
“You deserve it.” He pushes you back, looking you in the eyes. Both his hands cup your jaw, it’s a gentle touch that’s out of character, but his words make up for it. “Now, get on your knees and suck my cock like a whore.”  
You blink, empty cunt clenching at the word whore, your body reacting despite the fact that you’ve just had an earth-shattering orgasm. Slithering off his lap you drop down to your knees between his legs and quickly take him into your mouth.  
You can taste yourself as his hand twists into your hair, lifting you up and down on his cock. The first few minutes are just a warm up as you get used to the size of him, taking him further and further into your throat with every pump of your mouth.  
When his patience runs thin he takes matters into his own hands, holding your head in place while he fucks up into your mouth for the better part of twenty minutes. When he gets close he holds you down, forcing you to take every inch before finally easing up, letting you suck him at your own pace.  
He cums, spurting thick and warm. You swallow immediately, letting him fill your mouth a second time before he’s done cumming. Then continue sucking the head of his cock until he grabs your hair and pulls you off his dick.  
“Did you swallow it all?” He asks, watching spit drip from your chin.  
“Yes.” You gasp.  
His thumb hooks over your bottom lip, pulling your jaw open. “Let me see.”  
Opening wide for inspection, you feel his thumb rub over your tongue, sliding into the back of your mouth before releasing you.  
“Next time I cum in your mouth I want you to hold it, don’t swallow until I tell you.” His knuckles slide over your cheek.  
“Okay.” You whisper. “I will.”  
“I know.” He tucks himself back into his pants. “Tomorrow I want you here by six thirty am. I’ll text you instructions in the morning.”  
-  
It’s on the walk back to the house that you remember his request. “You asked me to bring my phone.”  
“I did, thank you for reminding me.” He holds out his hand for your iPhone. “What’s your pin?”  
“Um,” you hesitate but answer before you think better of it. “Twenty-two, fifty-two, eighteen.”  
He thumbs in your code and unlocks the screen, opening your text messages.  
“Hey!” You protest, reaching toward him. He jerks his hands away, shooting you a look of utter intolerance, raising his eyebrow until you slink back, unhappily crossing your arms. You stand watching as he skims your messages, then opens the thread from the unknown number he texted you from earlier. Opening the contacts he inserts a name before handing it back to you.  
“You can’t just check my phone, go through my personal things.”  
“I just did.” He looks at you, glancing up to nod at a passing employee. “Don’t worry, I have no interest in monitoring your texts. As long as you’re sticking our agreement.”  
“I am.” You confirm.  
“Then pull yourself together. We’re going to have a big day tomorrow. There is a meeting with the band.” Paul said, as you smiled, getting excited for one reason about coming into work the next day.


	7. Chapter 7

You hardly sleep. The anticipation of knowing that you’re going to see him early Friday morning is enough to make you vibrate with nervous, jittery energy like a hummingbird in flight. Figuring you might as well use this newfound exhilaration to your advantage, you spend most of the night cleaning your apartment until the bathroom and kitchen are sparkling. It’s well past midnight when you finally crawl into bed, lying there, staring at the ceiling and wondering what new experiences tomorrow will bring.  
-  
The clock ticks six-thirty but you’ve already been at your desk for half an hour. With the exception of the security team the place is a ghost town. The ding of your phone echoes in the silence as you nearly jump out of your skin.  
Come to my office.  
You’re up and out of your seat in a heartbeat, hightailing it to his office. The door to his office is wide open, and you step inside, sunlight pouring in through the floor to ceiling windows. Paul is seated on the sofa in the middle of the room. He looks up, seemingly pleased with your promptness.  
“Close the door.” He instructs as you turn back. “How are you this morning?”  
“I’m,” you stop to look at him, hair carefully tucked behind his ears. “A little tired.”  
“Didn’t you sleep well?” He raises an eyebrow in question.  
“No, I was excited for today.”  
“Let’s hope it lives up to expectations. Come, sit there.” He points to the armchair across from the couch. You take a seat, crossing both ankles, clasping your hands in your lap. He watches every movement, eyes flitting to each part of your body, taking stock.“You will spend the entire day with me. That entails meetings, the business review, all of it. When we’re in a room with other people, you’ll stand or sit next to me, clear so far?”  
“Yes.” You nod.  
“I’ll give you a laptop, you can take notes. Now, and this is the most important part, you’re not to talk to anyone other than me. If someone speaks to you, defer to me. Can you do that?”  
“I can.” Your mind is already racing with a hundred different uncomfortable scenarios but then there’s an undeniable thrill at the idea of complying with this instruction. “I won’t speak to anyone but you.”  
“Excellent. Shall we get started?” His eyes narrow and you know the day will be much more than note taking and structured silence.  
“I’m ready.”  
“Sit back, spread your legs and touch yourself. No orgasm.” he orders, as he watches you.  
Oh, God. You wordlessly pull your skirt up and open your thighs, snaking a hand between them. Paul watches for a moment, emotionless, and then picks up his newspapers and goes back to reading. There’s the instant conflicted mix of embarrassment and arousal as you rub your clit while Paul sits across from you, going about his morning as if you’re not even in the room.  
“You're wearing underwear. Take them off.” he says, as you stop momentarily, as you look up and see that he’s still reading the paper, as you are trying to process what he’s telling you.  
“y/n?” he questioned as he moved the paper looking at you, this dark look in his eyes, as you quickly slip them down your hips and off.  
Once they are off and in your hand, you are trying to think of where to put them, and suddenly he’s taking them from your hands and putting them in his inside jacket pocket. He smirks at you momentarily, as he goes back to reading the paper, as you're sitting there stunned.  
“y/n, continue.” he says, as your mind is buzzing with thoughts, as your fingers immediately went back to the task at hand.  
You’ve been wet since you woke up, every inch of you alive at the thought of what the day would bring. So it’s no surprise that it doesn’t take long to get close, clenching as you hold your own pleasure at bay. A moan escapes your lips, small and barely audible but he hones in on it like a hawk.  
Glancing up he clears his throat, watching your rub yourself, stopping every third or fourth stroke to keep from cumming.  
“I don’t like labeling things,” He goes back to his paper, as if engaging in casual conversation. “I won’t ever tell you that you have rules because all this is your choice. What I do have are expectations. I’ve already outlined several of them. Can you tell me what they are?”  
“Oh god.” You groan, slowing your fingers to a glacial pace. “No panties.”  
“That’s one.”  
“No talking about us.”  
“I would say that’s more of a technicality but I’ll give it to you.”  
Your mind races over your meeting with him yesterday, gasping and dipping your fingers down to wet them with your slick before returning to your clit. “Nothing inside my pussy except your fingers or your cock.”  
“You were listening.” He grins, folding the paper over his lap. “Tell me, is that something you want? To have me inside you?”  
“Yes.” You stare at him head on, legs beginning to shake.  
“We’ll see how well you do today.” Taking off his glasses he leans forward, getting a better view of your cunt. “Why don’t I tell you what I have in mind.”  
You nod, unable to form words, neck snapping back against the chair.  
“Don’t stop touching yourself, just slow down and control your body. If you cum without permission, you’re not going to like the repercussions.”  
“I won’t.” You’re determined to show him you can take as much as he can dish out.   
“So the time in the studio yesterday, did you like the way it felt?” he asked, as he tilted his head waiting for you answer  
“I loved it.” you answer honestly, sighing as you continue working yourself close to the edge and backing away from it.  
“You’re going to be doing a lot of sitting today, there are more meetings than usual. So I’m going to spank you so hard you’re gonna feel it until Monday. When I’m done spanking you, I’m going to put a little something in your cunt. That tight little bottom is going to be sore, and your going to be full, until you leave at the end of the day. If you’re good and do everything I tell you, I’ll let you fuck your pussy with my fingers.”  
“Thank you, I want that.” You reply with a sharp breath and Paul’s eyes light up.  
You hoped he’d spank you. It’s been on your mind since yesterday, but there’s always another level with him, that’s what really crawls under your skin. The truth is you’ll do just about anything he asks of you.  
“Get up, come over here and lay across my lap.” He sets the newspaper on the coffee table as you stand up and walk to him, sticky thighs rubbing together as you move.  
Hiking up your skirt you crawl over him, lowering your weight so your belly is over his crotch. He’s hard, you can feel that huge cock straining through his jeans while you wiggle your ass in the air.  
“You count.” His thumb dips down between your legs, checking to see how wet you are before wiping it on the back of your thigh. He grabs a fist full of your butt cheek with one big, warm hand, giving it a squeeze as his palm comes down on the opposite cheek.  
Crack.  
You wince. This first one is harder than anything you imagined. Before but the pain instantly blooms into pleasure, skin stinging from his hand.  
“One.” You count, voice already shaking.  
Crack. Crack.  
These two are on the same cheek, two hits in rapid succession in exactly the same spot that makes you see stars, sucking deep breaths.  
“Three.”  
Crack.   
This is the hardest yet, on your virgin cheek and you squeal, a high pitch yelp that turns into a groan.  
“Four.” You’re sweating, fingers curling into the fabric of the sofa.  
“Deep breath,” he warns, voice low and even, with his hand rubbing the burning skin. You suck in a breath and then he really gets started.  
Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.  
They’re ungodly hard and incredibly fast, alternating between cheeks until you can feel the tears pool at the corners of your eyes.  
“Eight.” You whimper.  
“Wrong.” He corrects you immediately. “That was nine.”  
Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.  
Again the spanks come in rapidfire succession, hard enough to draw a bark with each one.  
“Th-thirteen.” You sputter, tears now falling freely. “It hurts.”  
“Good.” He quips. His hand moves between your legs, searching until he finds your clit, rubbing it with his thumb. After a few well placed strokes, his free hand comes down your ass again.  
Crack.  
“Do we need to stop?” His inquiry is accompanied by an increasing pressure over your aching clit.  
“No,” you nod adamantly. “I can take more. I wanna feel it later.”  
“You don’t disappoint, do you.” He smirks.  
He alternates between rubbing your clit and spanking your backside until you’re squirming on his lap, barely able to lie still. Your butt hurts so bad you feel your heartbeat, but he’s got you right on the edge. If he’d just rub you a little bit longer you’d cum in an instant.  
Crack.  
“Thirty.” You cry out, slapping a hand over your own mouth to contain the sob.  
Paul places a hand on the back of your thigh, right under your buttocks as his thumbs stills over your clit.  
“You should see your ass, you’ll be thinking about me all weekend.” There’s a smirk in his voice, as he leans over, pressing a hand on your lower back to keep you in place. Then the click of a bottle and he’s rubbing lotion over your cheeks, big hands massaging the tender flesh. Under any other circumstances, it would feel good, but right now it just stings like a mother fucker. “Are you ready for the next part?”  
“Yes.” You confirm with the side of your face smashed into the couch cushion.  
“Just relax.” There’s the click of another bottle opening but you don’t feel anything until he’s pulling your ass cheeks apart. Then the wet, cold press of lubed metal as he presses something against you “Don’t worry, it’s small, just enough to make you feel it….that’s it, open up for me…”  
It’s a firm press, agonizingly slow as the toy stretches you open, wider and wider until the flared end slides inside with a quick burn and then your body is closing around it.  
“Oh,” you mewl at this new, not unpleasant, sensation.  
“You should see yourself.” He’s got both hands back on your bruised ass, pushing your cheeks together and then pulling them apart. “You’re all marked up. And your pussy is so wet you’re going to make a mess of this pretty skirt. Better clean you up.”  
He plucks a Kleenex from the side table and wipes up and down your slit until you’re no longer sopping wet.  
“Get up.” He pats the couch between your legs.  
You slide off his lap, settling onto your knees on the couch, sitting back, wincing as your butt meets your heels.  
He looks over your face for a moment before reaching up to wipe your tears away with his thumb. “You’re beautiful like this. Desperate, frustrated, embarrassed. It’s fucking perfect…do you like how this feels? Was it too much?”  
“Wasn’t too much.” You’re aching, everything between your legs is begging for release. You have no idea how you’re going to make it through the day.  
“We’re not done yet.” He glances at his watch. “But we do need to hurry. You’re going to suck my cock now.”  
“Okay.” You agree eagerly, watching him unbuckle his belt. You’re so turned on, the idea of having him in your mouth is almost as appealing as him fucking you.  
The moment his cock springs free you curl your fingers around him, leaning down to suck on the swollen crown and stroke him a few times before taking him into your throat. Being hyper-aroused helps, you’ve little gag reflex at the moment, able to swallow him whole as his hips stutter upward.  
His hands curl into your hair, rough grunts coming from above you.  
“Good girl, just like that, nice and deep.” You suck and bob and stroke him until your jaw feels like it might come unhinged. He’s close, you can tell because he’s panting and tugging on your hair. “Remember what I said, don’t swallow.”  
“Hmmm.” You hum in confirmation, vibrating around his dick and he jerks, cumming hard, pumping hot and thick into your mouth.  
You do as you're told, keeping your mouth on him until he’s done cumming. As soon as he’s finished, you pop off his length, wiping your chin with the back of your hand.  
“Let me see.” Still breathless, he cups your jaw, prying your mouth open with his thumb. You can taste him on your tongue, feeling utterly humiliated as he inspects your mouth full of creamy white.  
There’s a knock on his office door and you freeze, mouth open and skirt up around your hips. Paul looks at you, patting your cheek. “Close your mouth, don’t swallow until I tell you. Now pull yourself together and sit up.”  
You manage to get yourself into a presentable state, sitting next to Paul with your jaw clenched shut as he calls for whomever is outside the office.  
“Come in.”  
Your eyes go wide, looking at him in horror and he just grins right back, ticking his jaw as if you’re one of the sweetest things he’s ever seen.  
“Good morning sir, I have your schedule ready and it’s a full day! Do you want to-” The guard stops cold when he sees you.  
“Y/N,” he snorts. “I didn’t realize you were here this morning.”  
You just shrug, lips glued shut, the taste of Paul filling your mouth.  
“Well, doesn’t matter I suppose. Would you like a copy of it?” he asks  
“Yes,” Paul nods thoughtfully, as he takes a copy of it looking it over.  
“Y/N,” Paul turns to you. “Would you like a copy of the schedule for yourself?”  
You shake your head no.  
“Alright I’m going to warm up the car. You have ten minutes before you need to be outside.” He looks at both of you and walks out of the room.  
The second he’s no longer in view Paul leans over, close enough for you to feel his breath on your ear.  
“Swallow.” He instructs. You comply instantly but it’s only a second before he’s asking for more. “Show me, tongue out.”  
You turn to him, opening your jaw wide and sticking out your tongue, like a patient proving you took a pill.  
“You really are made for this.”  
-  
The moment you’re up and walking your entire lower half is on fire. Your ass is still throbbing and the toy inside of you is a small but constant stretch.  
The first meeting of the day is short, only Paul and Gene in the office doing a quick review of new building plans and the progress on the construction sites with their investor for Rock n Brews locations. You sit next to him, barely able to concentrate on your note taking as your butt throbs against the rough fabric of the chair.   
Fifteen minutes later you’re trotting beside him heading to the next meeting. He stops just outside the conference room. Turning and picking an imaginary piece of lint off your shoulder. “Are you ready?”  
“Yes.” You nod, clenching your ass, struggling to keep your eyes from fluttering shut. “What is this meeting?”  
“With the entire band, and our band manager Doc Mcghee about the next tour. Merchandise, locations, dates etc.” He explains, heading into the room. You follow him as the chatter in the room goes silent.  
To your horror your eyes meet with Eric and Tommy who are seated at the table and giving you looks. You want to die of embarrassment, sure that they will somehow be able to detect the dirty little game you and Paul are playing.  
“Let’s get started.” Paul takes a seat at the table and you sit next to him, nearly wincing in pain. He really did a number on you, but you can’t deny you love this, the feeling of your sore backside and the added bonus of the toy is a constant reminder of Paul and the effect he has on you. You rock to one side, subduing a gasp as you settle back in.  
Doc starts the meeting and you’re grateful for the laptop, giving a reason to avoid making eye contact with anyone for the bulk of the meeting.   
You’re hyper focused, typing every word being said. So focused in fact that when Paul leans in to speak, you flinch in surprise. He places the back of his hand over his mouth so that no one can see how close he really is, his lips nearly brushing the shell of your ear.  
“How’s your ass?” He murmurs, sitting back and looking for your response.  
You gulp, looking at the screen and type out: sore.  
He nods as if you’ve just imparted some vital piece of information.  
Leaning in one more time, he asks, “are you wet?”  
You simply nod in confirmation.  
He leaves you alone for the rest of the meeting. Nearly two hours of trying to sit still and play the part of some mysterious assistant. When it finally ends, Paul reviews a few of the details with Gene and Doc.  
“Hey,” Eric says as he slides into the chair beside you.  
You smile stiffly.  
“Your his new assistant that he’s been talking about. I didn’t know Paul was in need of an assistant?” He persists, eyes narrowing when you don’t respond. “Maybe since you're his assistant he could loan you out to us sometime?” He questions as you were sipping at some water, and almost choke at his question. As your mind immediately goes to the thought that they already knew about this arrangement.  
Would he loan me out to them not for assistant duties? Did I sign myself up to be passed around from band member to band member? You thought, as you noticed Paul turned at the sound of you coughing.  
“She’s my assistant Eric. No sharing. Plus she’s already busy as it is. She likes having a full schedule.” Paul says, as you seem to be the only one that catches the tone when he says the word full, as you feel yourself clenching against the toy inside you. Paul turns in his chair, looking at Eric who sits up straighter. “She’s helping me on a unique project that sometimes requires intense oversight.” Paul explains.   
By the time they’re done talking you’re squirming in the seat, ass on fire, as Eric pats the back of your chair.  
“See you later, Y/N.” He gives you a little salute and leaves the room. Paul looks from the empty doorway to you, but doesn’t say anything.  
-  
By the time you are ready to leave the room, you’re sure Paul is going to be the death of you. You’re flushed with excitement, determined to do as he asked, to remain deserving of the reward. The door to the meeting room shuts behind you, and you hear the click of the lock.  
“Hands on the table.” He instructs.  
You bend over, spreading your palms wide, sliding forward.  
“Does it hurt?” He asks, two big hands gently squeezing your cheeks through your skirt.  
“Yes,” you hiss, turning your head to the side, pressing your cheek against the cool surface of the table. “It was intense.”  
“Yes, it was.” You can almost hear the smile in his voice as he pulls your skirt up over your bum, exposing you to his hands once again. “But you like it?”  
“I love it.” Your confession is more a yelp as he squeezes both cheeks in tandem sending immediate shocks of pain and pleasure right to your sex.  
“How about this?” He carefully pulls your cheeks apart, tapping the toy that was inside of you.  
“It’s different…” You whine as he presses down with his thumb, forcing it just a little deeper. “I can feel it all the time.”  
“Good.” He presses for a few more seconds and then you feel him wrap his finger around it, gently pulling back against you. You suck in a breath, wiggling despite giving your best effort to stay still. Then he’s pressing inward again, finally tugging harder than before and the toy slips out.  
You groan, but remain silent as you hear him digging through his bag and then there’s the familiar click of a bottle opening. After a few seconds the re-lubricated tip of the toy is pushed quickly back inside you with a grunt.  
“This will get us through to lunch.” He pats your ass softly. Just when you think he’s done, you feel his hand nudging between your thighs and his thumb is in search of your clit. Spreading your legs further, and inching backward you open up as wide as possible to give him better access as he begins to stroke your bud up and down at a slow, steady pace. “You’re always so wet when we’re together. Are you always like this?”  
“I like the way you make me feel,” you manage, mouth gaping open as his thumb continues it’s tortuous journey over the most sensitive part of your body.  
“The feeling is mutual.” He muses, dipping the very tip of his thumb inside your pussy even though it already had the toy inside, pressing downward to pull you open for him. It’s only a moment before he’s back to rubbing with even strokes.  
“I’m getting close.” You warn him, pleasure coiling in your belly.  
“Then we should stop. Don’t want to take away from the grand finale.” He pulls your skirt down, and turns you around with his hands on your hips, fixated on you with the eyes of a predator. “Open your mouth.”  
You open up and he slides his thumb between your lips, closing them around his knuckle as you suck your own tart taste off of him. Looking up, you find him watching your mouth, his own lips slightly parted as you swirl your tongue around the pad of his thumb. When he pulls back, he wipes his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling down to see your teeth.  
“We really are a good match.” He laments, swiping his wet thumb across your cheek bone. “Come on. I’m sure we’re already behind schedule and I don’t need Gene pestering me the rest of the day.”  
-  
You make it to five-thirty. After the mid-afternoon break, where he more or less repeated the same inspection and few minutes of pleasure, you sat through a grueling business review watching the minute ticks by at a glacial pace.  
As soon as the meeting is done he’s off like a rocket with you scrambling to keep up. You step onto the executive elevator, standing beside him as the doors slide closed. The moment the elevator begins its ascent he reaches over, swiping his key card and punching in a numerical code as the lift comes to an abrupt halt.  
Before you have a chance to question what’s happening he’s pressing you against the wall, pinning you in place with the weight and heat of him.  
One of his massive hands cups your breast through the material of your blouse, squeezing and groping with his breath at your temple.  
“Oh,” you wheeze, a tender wanton whine escaping your lips as he touches you.  
His hand leaves your breast just long enough to open your shirt, popping the buttons with such determination you’re afraid he might rip them off. That same big, warm hand slides inside your bra, pulling the cup down, then pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.  
Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as he presses harder, drawing a long low whine out of your throat before taking your whole breast in his hand, massaging firmly. This is the first time he’s really touched you. Up until this moment, it’s been nothing more than calculated, well-placed touches but now you imagine what it would feel like to have his hands on your body, pulling you to him, exploring your skin. This is fast and urgent in stark contrast to the control you’re used to.  
His free hand slides between your legs, lifting your skirt as he finds his way between your thighs.  
“Are you ready for your reward?” He pulls back to look you. For the first time since this started, he looks as strung out as you do. He’s sweating as his tongue darts out to lick his lips.  
“Please,” you implore, thrashing against the weight of him. You splay your legs wider, the material of your skirt riding up until it slides up your hips of its own volition.  
He quickly slides the toy out of you, inspecting it in his hands, before slipping it back into his pocket, with a smirk on his face.  
“Don’t worry it’ll be going right back inside of you when your done.” he said.  
Two thick fingers slide into your cunt, thrusting upward as he fills you for the first time. You’ve been worked up about this since yesterday, imagining what it would feel like to have him inside you, stretching you open.  
“Fuck,” you gasp, banging your head back against the wall of the elevator with a resounding thud.  
“Careful,” he warns, pulling his fingers almost all the way out of you, leaving just the tips inside. “Fuck yourself until you cum.”  
You realize what he means. He’s not going to do this part for you, instead, you have to bend shaking knees, lowering your desperate pussy onto his fingers. Whimpering, you slide down the wall, his fingers filling you again before mustering the strength to stand back up.  
“Come on,” he encourages, voice thick with desire. His hand gives your breast a squeeze, fingers curling into flesh “Don’t you want it?”  
“I want it so bad,” you mutter, head rolling to the side.  
Pooling every ounce of energy left in your system, you begin to slowly, painstakingly slide up and down, fucking your cunt on his hand like a desperate whore. After the first dozen wobbly attempts your lust begins to take over, giving you a superhuman strength to move faster, until you can hear the wet sound of your pussy taking his fingers.  
He rewards your effort by positioning his thumb just right so that with every pass it slides beside your clit, adding to the desperation. You’re still trapped between his hot, heavy body and the wall, drenched in sweat as you bounce up and down, up and down.  
“Please,” rasping, you stop to make sure you don’t lose your footing. Both legs are quivering like jello, ready to give out at any moment. “I can’t get deep enough like this. Please, fuck me with your fingers.”  
You’re sure he’s going to deny you, make you do it yourself. But much to your relief he waits for a beat and then thrusts his fingers so deep in your dripping cunt that he manages to get his knuckles past the lips of your slit. Buried deep inside he brings his thumb to your clit and rubs twice, all while pinching your nipple hard enough to make you cry out.  
All it takes is two well place strokes and you cum around his fingers. Everything between your legs begins to throb, cunt tightening around his knuckles. It’s intense and brutal, your body violently jerking as the waves of pleasure wash over you from head to toe.  
The fingers inside you scissor open, staying wide as he pulls out, drawing every last sensation from your pulsing snatch.  
He steps back just enough to let you wilt down the wall until your knees hit the carpet. You’re only half aware as he takes his cock out of his pants and shoves it into your mouth. Utterly strung out, you suck out of instinct, looking up to find him staring down, his mouth open in the blatant display of arousal he’s allowed himself.  
Paul shoves forward a few times, tapping the back of your throat and cums, thick and salty over your tongue, sliding down your throat before you think any better of it. You don’t stop, licking the underside of the head, letting the flared crown slip gently between your lips over and over. Eventually, he holds your head in place, letting you suck for another minute before pulling himself free.  
Fisting his cock he runs the wet head across your lips, tapping it against your mouth, taking a deep breath and then tucking himself back into his underwear.  
You remain on your knees, trying to catch your breath. His hands on your face jolt you back to reality, thumb prying your mouth open.  
“You swallowed.” He states calmly.  
For a moment you don’t know what he’s talking about and then his list of expectations comes back to you.  
“I’m sorry.” You murmur, looking up at him. “I don’t know if I’ve ever come that hard before. I couldn’t think.”  
He snorts, chuckling as he reaches down, cupping your elbows to help you stand.  
“I’ll give you one free pass.” He offers calmly, already composed. Your legs nearly give out and he grabs you around the waist, supporting most of your weight. “Are you going to be able to walk?”  
“Yes, I just need a minute.” You breath, watching him watch you. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, having someone scrutinize you this up close and personal. It’s a unique brand of intimacy that Paul is well versed in.  
When you’re able to compose yourself, he carefully goes about his routine of putting back together what he’s taken apart. He pulls your skirt down, buttons up your blouse and then carefully wipes at the mascara smudge under your eyes. His thumbs sweep across your cheeks wiping away sweat and tears, then he smoothes your hair back, tucking the few wild strands behind your ears.  
“Thank you.” You hum lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin.  
“You’re welcome.” He smiles thoughtfully, tilting his head to the side, as he goes to place the toy back inside you, as you wince at the stretch, as he pulls your skirt back into place. “You keep the plug in until you get home. It’s up to you if you want to use it on your own time.”  
“Okay.” You confirm.  
“I’m leaving next Tuesday for Los Angeles. I hope your schedule is open, I would like for you to come with me.” He instructs, stepping away from you, smoothing out his own shirt, then hair.  
“I’ll look at my schedule and get back to you..” You nod. His shirt is askew. Before you stop to think you reach out, adjust his shirt until it’s back in place. Realizing your actions you wait to see if he’ll correct you, but instead, he just watches silently as you slink back beside him.  
“Thank you.” He remarks touching the tie with two fingers.  
“You’re welcome.”


	8. Chapter 8

All weekend you tried emailing your professors in an attempt for you to be able to go with Paul on his trip to Los Angeles. None were willing to push assignments or were willing to listen to your very good excuse as work preventing you from coming to your classes.

You texted Paul, letting him know that you weren’t able to come with him to Los Angeles, and made it very clear that you would have wanted to join him but was unable to due to your university classes that you still had to attend.  
By monday, while at work you were trying to get all of your work done for Paul, and using any free time to try and get the homework done for your classes in an attempt to be able to be free to go on the trip. You had textbooks surrounding you at your desk.  
You hear the sound of Paul coming out of his office, as you were focusing on taking notes, not noticing that he stopped at your desk.  
“That’s not work is it?” he asked, as you took your eyes away from your textbook, looking up at him.  
“Yeah I got everything done already for today. So I thought I would get some of my classwork done.” You replied, as you noticed him narrowing his eyes at you. You hear one of his hands grip your chair, as he leans down.  
“I know what you're trying to do. Get work done so you can ditch your classes to go on this trip. Which goes against the contract y/n.” he said, warning in his voice, as he taps his fingers against your seat.  
“If you bail on your classes, that goes against the contract. You need to go that’s why I’m paying for your tuition.” He said, in a calm voice but you could tell that he was getting angry at the thought of you violating the contract.  
“Yes, because I’m working here because you want to experience me going through college right?” you countered, as you looked up at him a small smile on your face.  
“Don’t worry Mr. Stanley I’ll be a good student and show up to my classes tomorrow.” You say, turning back to your working knowing the reaction that that would get you.  
“Maybe we can talk while your off in L.A.?” You suggest, as you looked up at him, making it very clear you weren’t just wanting to talk to him, as he smirked at you.  
“I’ll make sure to text you before to make sure the coast is clear.” he said as you saw something come to him, as his smile widened.  
“I’ll have some things sent to your dorm, for the talks.” he said, as you found yourself smiling like an idiot as he walked away leaving you to your work.  
\--  
Tuesday  
You were in your dorm, sitting there getting ready when it hit you. You shouldn’t be getting ready to go to class, you should be going to L.A. to meet with Paul.   
With a big smile on your face, you pull out one of your bags, starting to pack it, knowing that his flight has already left but that he would definitely be surprised at your arrival.

 

\--  
You had remembered the reservation information that you had made for him a week before, so you got a room at the same hotel that he would be staying at.   
Your hotel room is a long elevator ride up at the Four Seasons. It’s twice the size of your apartment and the mattress is the most comfortable thing you’ve ever felt in your life.   
Paul’s big meeting isn’t until the morning, but he had plenty to go over with the fill-in assistant. So you knew you would have to wait until later in the evening to surprise him. You take a shower and order room service for a snack, then sit at the end of the bed and watch TV as the hours tick by.   
By the time he texts you, you’re beyond ready and full of nervous anticipation. Every inch of your body is lotioned and soft, hair curled and makeup minimal but enough to add a little oomph to your everyday look.   
You knew that he would text you about video chatting to make sure that the coast was clear but this next was a surprise in and of itself.   
Picking up the phone you read the message.  
He knew that you had shown up.   
You didn’t know what to feel? Excited or slightly nervous about how he even knew that you ditched your classes and came to Los Angeles anyway.   
Open your gift and put it on. Come up to my room. Wear a dress, we’re going out.  
“My gift?” you mutter. There’s a knock at the door right on cue. You collect a box from the bellhop, thanking him and kicking the door shut behind you. The box itself is wrapped in nondescript, white paper and you tear it open to reveal a pearly iridescent box with the name Dark Garden Lingeriescrawled across the top.   
Inside is a matching black bra and panties. Upon closer inspection, you discover the panties are crotchless, and a thrill of anticipation runs up your spine. There are garters and thigh-high pantyhose underneath them and you take out the full set, stripping down to try it on.   
It takes a few tries to get it right, but when you’re done you admire yourself in the mirror. The garter sits smoothly around your waist, the rest of the set perfectly in place. It dawns on you that Paul knows your measurements. He paid close enough attention to be able to order lingerie that fits like a glove. He’s given this thought, took the time to pick out something specific to his tastes. This little delivery was pre-planned.   
For the first time, you wonder if he thinks about you with the same fascination you have for him. Not wanting to indulge those thoughts you focus on the matter at hand.   
You’re better prepared this time. You overpacked, and have something you think will be perfect for the occasion. It’s a bright red one shoulder cocktail dress that falls just above the knee. It’s daring but also conservative, a commentary on Paul if ever there was one.   
-  
Waiting in the hallway you knock on Paul’s door, shifting from one foot to the other. The uncertainty of your time with him makes your blood run hot, a tingle that always sets in when you know you’re about to see him.   
The door swings open and there he is in an expertly tailored navy blue suit that was clearly made for him. It’s easy to get caught up in who he is and your relationship with him, but all that aside, he’s a devastatingly handsome man.   
He stands there with his hand on the door, inspecting you from head to toe before stepping aside. “Come in.”   
You step into his room and he shuts the door behind you.   
“You look beautiful,” he comments, stalking around you in a full circle.   
“Thank you for my gift.” You lick your lips as he comes to stand in front of you.   
“You’re wearing it?” He grins.   
As if he even needs to ask.   
“Yes,” you confirm. “Would you like me to show you?”  
“Not right now. We’ll save that for later.” He steps closer, lifting his hands to curl around the back of your neck, his thumb resting in the dip between your collar bones. All of his fingers stroke up the back of your neck, sending a spine tingling chill from head to toe. He rarely touches you, so the feeling of his warm hands lingering on your skin is a treat.   
“Knew you wouldn’t listen to my instructions and come anyways.” he said, answering the question that had been in your head since you arrived at the hotel.  
“But you’ll be getting that punishment when we are back here later this evening. Which no doubt you’ll enjoy.” he said.  
You look up as he stares down at you and the world narrows down to this moment. His fingers press on the base of your skull, thumbs pressing softly at your jugular notch as you stare at each other.   
This is by far the most intimate moment you’ve experienced with Paul. He’s close and quiet, inches from your face, close enough that you can feel his breath. It’s as if you’ve been drugged, willing to do anything he asks of you. One of his thumbs moves up to press at the front of your throat, feeling you swallow.   
“I’m going to take you to dinner,” he whispers, mouth getting closer by the second. His lips brush the corner of your mouth as he speaks. “And then I’m going to bring you back here and fuck your tits. Would you like that?”   
“Yes,” you whimper, eyes closed as you swim in the feeling of him.   
“I’m going to test your limits tonight, Y/N.” Your legs feel weak as he speaks, knees threatening to give out. “Some things may hurt but I promise you’ll like it all. Do you trust me?”  
“Yes,” you whisper, mouth falling slack.   
“If you’re good for me tonight, tomorrow I’ll fuck your pussy,” he murmurs, his mouth moving to the shell of your ear. “I bet you're so tight. Bet that wet little cunt is just begging for a cock.”   
You wheeze, breath rattling in your throat as your sex begins to tingle. Part of you thought maybe he’d never actually fuck you. That this is all some power game designed to make you crave him but never actually give you what you want. If it means he’ll fuck you, you’d crawl on the floor and bark like a dog if he asked you to.   
“I’ll be good.” This pledge comes out as a whine, strained and low as he pulls back to look at you.   
“I know you will,” he affirms. “Now let's go have something to eat, shall we?”   
-  
You slide into the backseat of a sleek, black car and Paul settles in next you, immediately rolling up the privacy window that separates the back from the driver. You’ve barely pulled away from the curb when he reaches over and hooks a hand under your knee, laying your leg over his thigh, effectively opening you up for him.   
You don’t say anything just turn to watch him as he’s focused on his where his fingers are trailing up your inner thigh, brushing gently up past the thigh highs and garter clips, until he finds exposed flesh. You suck in a breath and he grins like a wolf, refocused on whatever new torture he has in store.   
“Are you wet?” he asks softly, fingers moving closer to your trembling apex.   
“Ahuh.” The second the word leaves your mouth you tense up, and you feel a slap on the inside of your thigh, just above the knee.   
“What did I say about talking like that?” he chastises, looking for your confirmation.   
“I’m sorry. I meant yes. I’m wet.” Squirming in the seat you draw in a breath and try to sit still. It seems an impossible task with his hand inching up further and further and then you feel it. The tips of two fingers easily find the obscene hole in the crotch of your panties, sinking into your wet flesh up to his first knuckle.   
“Yes you are,” he shakes his head. “What about today turned you on the most?”   
“Knowing that I disobeyed your orders in coming to Los Angeles,” you gulp. “But when you tell me what you’re going to do to me later, I love that. And I like when you touch me.”   
“Of course you do,” he coos, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing over it lightly.   
You jerk as he grazes the most sensitive part of you. You’ve been throbbing since the flight and this might prove to be your undoing.   
“I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.” Your mouth falls open, fighting the urge to close your legs around his hand.   
“That’s not the way to ask.” He presses harder at your clit and you groan as his fingers sink deeper inside you. “What you meant was may I cum?”  
“May I cum?” you rasp, shifting in the seat, canting your hips forward for relief but it only makes it worse.  
“Absolutely not,” he quips, giving your clit one last press before removing his hand from between your legs. “Open your mouth.” You do as he says, jaw falling open as he slides his two sullied fingers over your tongue. “Suck.”  
You can taste your own pussy on him. This act elicits a kind of strange arousal that you never knew would turn you on until he did it the first time. As he begins to slide his fingers deeper, you wonder if he’ll ever have you suck his cock after he fucks you, make you swallow his shaft, coated in your slick.   
His fingers push deeper and you gag for a moment before regaining control, opening your throat so that he can push as deep as he wants. You’ve taken his cock deeper than this, but it’s an altogether different feeling to have his fingers wiggling in the back of your throat.   
“Look at me.” He commands and you snap to attention, wide-eyed while he fucks your mouth with his fingers. A tear slides down your cheek, as you clench your thighs together. Your throat makes its own unique squelching sound and it’s enough to make your cunt clench, the thought of him using you like this is filthy and beyond exciting.   
“That’s enough for now I think.” He removes his finger from your mouth and you close your eyes, trying to pull yourself together. He plucks a kleenex from his pocket and wipes his hand off before lifting your leg off him.   
\--  
“You know,” he leans back in his seat, sipping a glass of seltzer. “It used to be when I went on these trips I’d eat alone or order room service. Having you here is far more entertaining.”  
“I’m glad you’re enjoying our arrangement.” You smile, crossing your ankles under the table. “Can I ask you something?”  
“You can ask,” he volleys back. “But I may not answer.”  
“Why don’t you drink alcohol? Is it just the whole health thing?”  
“I drink wine occasionally but usually on trips like this I don’t,” he concedes, setting his drink on the table but keeping his hand over it. “ I don’t drink because I want to see what’s coming. Be more aware and sharp in meetings and not focusing on having a hangover. But since you’ve shown up and my meeting isn’t until tomorrow, I thought at least one glass wouldn’t hurt.”   
“Well.” You sit back. “I thought you were just gonna feed me some line about being on Keto or something.”   
He laughs at that, a deep laugh that puts a genuine smile on his face.   
It makes sense from what you know about him professionally and personally. There are people coming at him from all sides, there’s always a new offer, a pitch for the next great idea. And after what you’ve heard about the band in the 80’s, this falls right in line. The rug has been pulled out from under him before, he’s not about to let it happen again.   
“I have a question for you.” He sits forward with that trademark soul-piercing stare.   
“Okay.” You nod. “I’m an open book.”  
“What were you doing here now?” He looks genuinely perplexed, eyes narrowing. “I know you said that you had classes this week, making it so you wouldn’t go. So why did you disobey and still ending up showing up here?”  
You’re quiet for a moment, looking down at your hands folded in your lap. You look back at him before you speak. “I finished everything for this week. Only thing I missed was having my presence in the classrooms. I made sure to tell my professors that this was for work.” You admitted, hoping that he would understand.  
“What do you mean?” His interest has peaked.   
“I got everything completed. And I didn’t want to miss this opportunity to be out here and see how the operation worked out here in the west coast. I wanted to be around that kind of energy, your energy makes me want to work harder, making something of myself. I spent the last twenty-eight years around stoners and dropouts. I’m ready for more.”   
“Really?” He grins, looking at you with some kind of new found appreciation. “So there is a little bit of a go-getter in you.”  
“You have no idea, Mr. Stanley” you tease, leaning toward him. “With the proper motivation, I bet I could do just about anything I put my mind to.”  
“I’ll take that as a challenge.” He lifts his chin in your direction.


	9. Chapter 9

“Uhhhh,” you whine, tugging on your arms where they’re tied above your head, secured to the headboard. You can’t form full words with his tie stuffed in your mouth, not that you would be able to talk anyway. The only thing you can focus on is the delicious throb of your nipples, each one crushed in a vice grip between his thumb and forefinger.  
The world is black, blocked out by a velvet blindfold that’s over your eyes. While you can’t see him, you can sure as hell feel him, the weight of him as he straddles your ribs, knees tucked into either side of your body.  
His cock is thick and heavy, laying between your breasts as he tugs on your nipples, pulling then twisting, sending little jolts of pain from your tits right down to your soaked pussy.  
Paul is slowly and surely opening up a whole new world for you. If anyone else had said that you’d enjoy pain, and loss of control during sex, you’d have scoffed at them. But right now you’re more worked up than you’ve ever been in your entire life. You’re completely at his mercy, trussed up and laid out, about to defile you in yet another salacious act that makes your blood run hot with anticipation.  
“Are you going to be good for me?” he asks, twisting your nipples viciously as you arch up with a muffled shout.  
“Ahmm,” you nod eagerly, rubbing your thighs together, feeling the evidence of your arousal all over yourself.  
“Do you trust me?” he asks, letting go of one nipple to bring the free hand up to hold your jaw still.  
“Hesh,” is all you can manage, somewhat nervous at the fact that he’s asked you this question twice in one night.  
“I know you like it when I spank you.” He abandons your jaw in favor of pinching both nipples in tandem. “And I can tell you like this because your cunt is drooling like a bitch in heat.” He tugs upward and your neck snaps back, pain spiraling downward and turning into pleasure somewhere along the way. “So we’re going to try something else tonight.”  
Both hands leave your breasts and the weight on top of you shifts as he leans toward the nightstand. While you don’t know the exact inventory, you listened to him set various things on the table next to the bed as you laid bound and blindfolded waiting to begin.  
He moves back into position, the silky soft head of his cock resting on your chest. He pinches your left nipple, squeezing hard several times until it’s impossible to make the sore peak any harder.  
“Deep breath in.” He instructs. You suck in a breath through your nose. Cold rigid metal sinks into either side of your nipple, tiny little teeth biting into the tender flesh makes you scream into the gag, your entire body undulating underneath him.  
“Ssshhh,” He quiets you, cupping the base of your breast. “One more to go.”  
While it hurts unlike anything you’ve experienced before, it’s an erotic pain that leaves you wanting more. You can’t exactly explain the neediness blossoming between your legs as he begins to tweak the opposite nipple. This time you know what’s coming, and prepare yourself as the little teeth bite into aching flesh.  
Both nipples clamped, Paul admires his handiwork, pushing both full tits together, trapping the head of his dick between them. There’s a constant throb in your nipples, just the same as your clit, pulsing between your legs and it’s sparked every time he jostles your breasts.  
“You’re breathtaking like this.” Paul’s voice is soft, full of genuine admiration as he squeezes the base of each breast. “There are screws on the side of the clamps. If I turn them, the clamps will tighten.” He explains calmly. “Do you think you can take a little more for me?”  
His question, while degrading and frightening, is exhilarating more than anything. The idea that you’re doing this for Paul, trying to be good and accept some sort of “punishment” that in reality, you’re craving, makes you quiver with excitement.  
“Hesh,” you agree, shaking in anticipation.  
He slowly moves to one clamp, you feel it the second he turns the screw. It tightens down and a sharp pain bursts to life. It’s almost too much but he stops just short of tipping over the edge and you pant through your nose, tears sliding from both eyes, down your temples.  
“Too much?” he inquires.  
“Ooo.” You shake your head no.  
“I knew it.” There’s a smile in his voice as he carefully tightens the other clamp until you’re bucking between his legs. All you can focus on is the pain in both breasts, this wonderful new torment you never knew you wanted. You’ve all but forgotten there’s a naked man, twice your size, straddling you.  
He reaches for the table again and there’s the click of a bottle and the sensation of a self-warming lube being drizzled over your breasts. The bed shifts as you hear him stroke his cock a few times.  
He slides his cock up between your breasts while pushing them together. The clamps move gently but it’s enough to draw a whine from your throat, the pain and pleasure mixing together as he begins to fuck your tits with long, drawn-out thrusts.  
“I bet I could make you cum from playing with your nipples.” He muses, sliding his thick cock easily up until the head taps under your chin. “I’ll try that some other time. Tonight is about what I want from you. And you’ve yet to disappoint me, Y/N. You always obey so well.”  
You want to respond, tell him how badly you want to be good for him, explain this need to do as he asks, to follow orders and please him, but all you can do is moan into the gag.  
The throbbing in your nipples lessens over time as the clamps slowly cut off the blood flow and by the end, there’s very little pain, only a dull pleasure that keeps your pussy wet and eager to make him happy.  
He’s squeezing your breasts together hard, huffing above you as he titty fucks you like he’s part of an Olympic event, his balls rocking into the underside of your boobs with each pass.  
Without warning, he pulls the tie out of your mouth.  
“Open up.” He instructs and you comply. Two more thrusts and he shoots warm and sticky over your chest, chin, nose, and open mouth, spurting again and again until you’re covered in pearly white. “Fuck,” he grunts, stilling his movements before releasing your breasts.  
You lay there, arms tied, mouth open until you feel him scooping cum off your chest and his fingers sliding into your mouth for you to suck his seed off them. When he’s had his fill of watching you swallow, he removes the blindfold and there he is above you.  
His hair is wild, hanging around his face, cheeks bright pink from arousal and exhaustion. He grins, watching as you blink at the bright light of the room.  
“We’re not done yet,” he teases, his eyes dropping down your breasts and you follow. Your nipples are dark and suddenly painful as you see them, still in the grips of each clamp. He releases one and the blood flows back into your peak, bringing with it a new pain that makes you howl in response. Before you can catch your breath he unclamps the other one and you’re thrown right back into the throes of it, wiggling under him, desperate for some relief.  
“Do they hurt?” he asks, eyeing your abused tits, licking his lips.  
“Yes,” you confirm. “But I like it.”  
“I’m glad. You look perfect tonight….beautiful.” He swoops down, closing his lips around one of your aching nipples. You watch the truly erotic sight as his mouth closes around the bud and the wonderful warm sucking sensation as he latches on. After a moment your eyes flutter shut, reveling in the feeling of his mouth on your body for the first time. When he pulls away you fear it’s over but then he’s sucking on the other one, rolling the peak between his teeth and sucking until you’re about to come undone.  
He was right, he probably could make you cum like this.  
As always, he knows when you’re close. You moan in protest, eyes popping open as his mouth leaves you.  
“Let’s see how the rest of you is doing.” He smirks, re-adjusting himself so that he’s kneeling between your spread thighs. While you can’t see your pussy, you can feel what a mess you are. Your cunt has been throbbing on and off all day and this last hour has pushed you beyond aroused.  
“I’ve never seen anyone this wet before,” he comments, gripping both thighs, thumbs digging to keep you open. His observations never fail to make you feel somewhat humiliated, embarrassed at how desperate you are for more of what he has to give.  
“Your poor little clit looks swollen,” he muses and you half want to crawl under the covers.  
Then you feel his thumb on you, looking down to watch him touch between your legs. The first brush with the pad of his thumb sends your body bucking upward, simultaneously trying to get away and pleading for more.  
“Oh fuck,” you rasp, tugging violently at the restraints as he begins to rub your clit, slow and gentle. “Please, can I cum? Please?”  
“No,” he says with conviction. “Not tonight.”  
“Please!” You cry out, the pleasure is building, stoking a spark that’s been on edge all day.  
“Stop and breathe, control your body,” he instructs. His thumb is still pressing over your bundle of nerves. “You know the rules, no orgasm until my fingers or cock are in this sweet cunt.”  
“I can’t,” you plead, feeling the tears coming again, body jerking from side to side.  
“I said no.” His voice booms, still trying to push you over the edge.  
“You’re gonna make me cum like this, please, oh please…”  
At some point, your own voice becomes a blur, the sound fuzzy in your ears. This is a new level of desperation. You want so badly to be good for him, to obey his rules but trying to hold back seems futile. You can’t stop yourself and the tug of war is too much.  
It barely registers when he stops touching you. You’re crying, tears streaming as you sob with need, left right on the edge.  
There’s a rush of feeling back in your arms as he unties you, and slides up to lie beside you, one hand spreading wide over your belly and pressing down.  
“Calm down.” His voice is at your ear, low and even. “Stop crying, take a breath.”  
You do as he says, eyes shut tight as you suck in a couple of deep breaths, easing back down from the ledge.  
He’s hot beside you. Warm naked skin pressed into your side, his hand on your stomach keeping you grounded.  
“I don’t know what that was,” you whisper, wiping your cheeks. You open your eyes to find him looking down at you inquisitively. “I’ve never burst into tears during sex before.”  
Paul chuckles, raising his eyebrows. “I have a way with people.”  
“I wanted to be good for you and I thought I wasn’t going to be able to stop myself,” you confess, feeling utterly small and uncomfortably vulnerable laying here in his bed.  
“You were good for me,” he affirms, his eyes dropping down your body to take stock. “I told you I was going to test your limits. We found one.”  
You quiet, feeling his hand on your belly rise and fall with each breath.  
“The rest was…” You widen your eyes, almost laughing from the nervous energy of the comedown. “Intense. But I liked it.”  
“Good.” His eyes narrow, the hand from your stomach reaching up to your face to push your sweaty hair back from your temple. The gentleness of the touch is at odds with his usual coldness. He looks at you for a moment, something fleeting coming then going just as quick as it was there. “It’s time for you to go back to your room.”  
Your stomach sinks, every bit of arousal that’s culminated throughout the day drains away with those words.  
“Oh,” you nod, getting onto your elbows. “Okay.”  
You sit up, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. There’s no way you can hide your disappointment but at least you can get out before he calls you out on it. You pick up the discarded bedspread off the floor looking for your dress, unable to find it until you turn around and Paul is standing, stark naked, with it in his hands. You try to take it from him, but he stops you, grabbing your bicep.  
“I would let you stay.” His eyes search yours, remaining unreadable as always. “But I need to get some sleep. The meeting is in a few hours.”  
“I understand.” You nod but he doesn’t release you.  
“I don’t-” he starts, choosing his words. “I was honest with you from the beginning about what this was going to be.”  
“I know,” you nod. “Transactional satisfaction. I’m not some doe-eyed college kid, I know what we are to each other. But when I’ve experienced something like what you did tonight, I need the connection, too. That was emotionally intense for me, you know that. I think it’s part of what gets you off. So, part of the transaction needs to be some better aftercare. I don’t like to feel disposable.”  
Paul tilts his head, unable to hide the surprise.  
“Message received,” he confirms. “For the record, you’re far from disposable. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you.”  
“Likewise.” You smile as he releases you. You leave your discarded undergarments on the floor, and he’s at your back, ready to zip up your dress.  
His hands curl around your hips, pulling you back against him as he dips down to whisper at the shell of your ear. “I want you to touch yourself once when you wake up. And one more time of your choosing before you meet me. Get yourself right to the edge.”  
“I will,” you promise softly, eyes shutting as you slip right back into your submissive skin.  
“Good girl,” he murmurs, letting his breath tickle your ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”


	10. Chapter 10

You sigh, putting the phone down and rolling onto your back, staring at the ceiling. The room is still and quiet, there aren’t the busy city noises that you normally hear in your own apartment. As you lie there you think about last night, the way Paul made you feel. Until he came along you would have never considered yourself to be submissive in any sense of the word. Quiet sure, but definitely strong-willed and hard-headed. He’s woken a sleeping giant, a need inside you that’s been aroused and there’s no putting it back to sleep.  
Making good on your commitment, you throw back the covers and look down at your naked body, still warm as your nipples harden instantly in the cool air. They’re still sore, throbbing gently the harder they get, a nice reminder of what you went through in the name of pleasure and the lengths you would go to if asked.  
One hand slides over your belly and between your legs as you begin to make gentle circles around your clit. Your body responds in an instant, as if all of yesterday’s teasing was just waiting for you to pick back up. Your pussy clenches, legs clamping closed for a moment as you moan gently and suck in a deep breath.  
You glance at the phone, reminded that several times he’s taken photos of you in compromising positions. You’ve never seen them, but you suspect he’s keeping them for when you’re not together. It’s a thought that gets you even more excited.  
Picking up your phone you open the text thread with him and type.  
Y/N: I’m completing my morning task  
Y/N: Would you like a picture?  
The moment you hit send you’re second-guessing the boldness of this interaction. He likes to give the orders and perhaps it’s too presumptuous to think he’s concerned about you masturbating on his behalf while he’s making preparations for this summer’s tour.  
It’s only a few minutes later that the phone vibrates again. You take a breath and look at the response, half expecting him to chastise you.  
Paul: Yes.  
Paul: Make sure I can see your face and your pussy.  
You can’t help but giggle, sorting the logistics of how to fulfill this request. You prop the phone up against the television and sit on the bed with your legs spread, testing the set up before setting the timer and taking nearly a dozen photos of you touching yourself.  
The best one looks the most natural, your lips are slightly parted, eyes half shut as you rub your clit. You send it to him and then lie back and finish the task at hand, touching your pussy until you’re right at the edge, sweating and desperate for an orgasm before you stop.  
There’s no response, so you get up and dig into your suitcase for a pair of leggings and a sports bra. The hotel has a world class gym and you might as well take advantage while you have the chance.  
You’re about to leave the room when he responds.  
Paul : Perfect  
Paul: That wet little pussy is going to be put to good use later  
Paul: I won’t be free until the evening.  
Paul: Come to my room at 9:30. No undergarments.  
You stare at the phone trying to think of a smart response and then confirm.  
Y/N: Yes, Mr. Stanley  
-  
Your excitement is palpable, almost shaking as you approach his room. This feels like the next step. After tonight things will be different, exactly how you’re not sure, but it’s inevitable.  
One knock and the door swings open as if he’s been waiting for you. He looks different than you’re used to seeing him. His hair is wet and he’s barefoot in jeans and a plain white undershirt as he steps aside for you to join him.  
While you know full well he doesn’t dress in a suit during his personal time, it’s still a shock. He almost looks like a normal person.  
“Am I early?” you ask, knowing full well you waited outside his hotel room, watching your phone until 9:30 blinked back at you.  
“No.” He looks you over then closing the door. “I’m running late. Our dinner went over and I always have pent up energy after prepping for a new tour. I went to the gym.”  
“On time is late,” you parrot his favorite saying, eyes going wide once you realize what you’ve done.  
“Indeed.” He smiles, and you’re thankful he’s amused. “You’re the one who was on time and ready to go. You deserve a reward.”  
“It went well then?” you inquire, turning to look at him, trying desperately to act like it’s not killing you to make small talk instead of dropping to your knees and offering to suck him off.  
“Very well.” He looks at you, eyes shining. “This tour is going to be next level. But it’s more money to be put in, but that means the more money to be made. There’s always give and take.”  
He’s silent as you stare at each other, his eyes boring holes into you.  
“What did you do with your day?” The question takes you off guard, and you can’t help but grin.   
“I went to the gym, then went out into the city to explore. My phone died and I got lost. I was hoping I’d be able to see the Yoyoi Kusama exhibit at LACMA but by the time I got there it was too late.”  
“The mirrors exhibit?” he asks, stepping closer. “Its coming to New York isn’t it?”  
“Yeah, but only for two weeks and it was sold out before I could get tickets.” You swallow as he gets closer, bare feet padding over the carpet.  
“And you completed both tasks I gave you?” Paul shifts the tone of the room with a single question and your cheeks turn red.  
“Yes,” you confirm, setting your purse on a small table by the wall. “The first time in my room. The second in the dressing room at Nordstrom. I would have sent you another picture but I was having enough trouble staying quiet.”  
“Good.” He steps forward, reaching out to slide a hand along your jaw, his thumb pulling down your lower lip to expose your teeth. He’s done this before and it never fails to make you feel like a prize racehorse up for inspection. “Take your clothes off.”  
He wanders over to the couch, taking a seat, watching you disrobe, head tilting as he appraises your breasts, then your stomach and lower.  
“How are you feeling after last night?”  
“Fine.” You’re completely nude, standing in the middle of the room. “My nipples are sore. It was hard to wear a bra, they’re still a little raw.”  
“Do you enjoy that?” He leans back, finger tapping over his knee in thought. “Feeling the after effects the next day?”  
“I do. It makes me re-play the things you do to me over and over in my head. I get to relive them all over again,” you confess, watching his throat bob.  
“This evening I’m going to start with a spanking,” he explains calmly, patting his thigh. “Come lay here.”  
Excitement hums in your veins as you walk to the couch. You look at him, up close and personal as you crawl over his lap and settle down with your ass over his lap. He wedges his hand between your thighs and you spread yourself open as best you can, feeling his finger swipe over your pussy, thumb checking to see how wet you are before he starts.  
“How many do you want?” he asks, rubbing an open palm over your butt cheek.  
“I-” you hesitate, unsure if this is a test or a genuine question so you throw out the first number that pops into your head. “Twenty.”  
“Twenty?” There’s faint surprise in his voice. “I expect you to count out loud.”  
And with that his open palm comes down on your ass so hard you shout in surprise, lurching forward.  
Crack. Crack.  
Two more follow in rapid succession, nasty slaps that makes your skin sting hot as he rubs his hand over the sore flesh.  
“Three,” you wheeze, already breathless as your eyes start to water.  
“Stay still,” he corrects as you squirm in his lap, reaching down and holding your upper thigh. “I’ll tie you up if I have to.”  
“I’m sorry,” you counter, tensing your muscles.  
“Don’t be sorry, do better.” This correction is followed by nearly a dozen hard fast spanks that leave you whimpering into the couch cushion. Both legs are shaking, trembling as you fight through the pain to stay still.  
“It hurts,” you sputter, voice ratcheting up an octave.   
“It’s supposed to hurt,” he quips, his hand snaking toward your cunt. “Is it too much?”  
“Almost…maybe,” you confess, fingers curling into the fabric of the sofa.  
His thumb finds your clit and your eyes roll back into your skull. He rubs you gently, a press over your bud while his other hand massages your ass. You were so concentrated on the pain that you didn’t realize how wet you were, but you can feel it now. The ache between your legs growing as he touches you.  
“Better?” He lets up, waiting for your go ahead.  
“Yes. Please finish.”  
He grunts, shifting under you and you feel his cock straining against his jeans, pressing into your stomach.  
He gives you five more solid whacks on your behind and a sixth for good measure, leaving you shaking like a leaf as he sits you up, wiping the corners of your eyes.  
“Can I suck your cock?” you ask, the request falling out before you even think about. He gets you so worked up your brain seems to short circuit.  
A grin crosses his mouth, as he palms the crotch of his pants.  
“Get on your knees,” he instructs. You slink off his lap and onto the carpet as he frees his cock. “Take it all the first time, nice and slow.”  
You look up at him, gulping and then slowly swallowing the head of his dick as both hands thread into your hair. It’s a challenge; you normally work up to this, but you don’t stop until he’s lodged in your throat, and you’re drooling around the base of his cock.  
“Look at me.” The hands on your hair tighten and you look up, only to find him watching you with his mouth open. “I can see the outline of my cock in your throat, you’re taking me so deep. Just hold it…right there.”  
You try to concentrate on suppressing your gag reflex, eyes watering as you groan around his dick. His eyes flutter shut in response.  
He tugs on your hair, pulling you off his cock as you gasp for air, spit hanging from your chin.  
“Suck,” he commands and you take the head back into your mouth, moaning, feeling your pussy throb between your legs. You lick and suck and stroke him until he’s painfully hard, the swollen crown catching with each pass of your lips.  
“That’s enough.” He takes you by the hair again, twisting until there’s a pull at your scalp and you both stand as he pulls you to your feet. “Bend over the bed, spread your legs.”  
He guides you to the mattress with a fist full of hair, only releasing so that you can lay belly down across the duvet. Opening your thighs you shiver in excitement.  
“Hands over your head.” His instruction is calm and even as you feel him between your thighs, one hand on each leg directly below your butt cheeks.  
Reaching up you spread your fingers wide, palms down and wait for what’s to come.  
“Beg me for it,” he grits, one hand pressing down on your lower back, the other wrapped around his cock as he drags the head through your folds.  
“Please fuck me,” you whine, trying to buck backward. “Please, I want your cock in my pussy. I need it, need to feel you inside me.”  
“Your wet little cunt needs this?” He dips the head inside, then pulls back out, rubbing the tip over your clit as you cry out. “How bad?”  
“So bad.” You’re utterly desperate now, fingers curling into the bedspread. “I’ll do anything you want. I’ll let you fuck me any way you want to, just please fuck me like this right now. I can’t take it.”  
“You feel that ache inside you?” he asks, pressing the head between your lips once again. “Have you ever felt that before?”  
“No,” you wheeze, turning your head to the side, eyes squeezed shut. “Never, it hurts, I need you to fuck me. Please, Paul, please.”  
He’s quiet and still for a moment and then presses forward, stretching your cunt open as he slides inside in one long thrust. A strained, low mewl escapes your throat, mouth gaping open as he bottoms out and his balls rock into your clit.  
“Fuck,” he grunts, hands gripping the meat of each butt cheek. “You’re tight.”  
You can’t speak, just whimper as he pulls out and shoves himself back in with a groan. After the maiden thrust, he quickly finds a rhythm, stroking tip to root with each pass. You’ve never felt so full or so stretched, he’s just this side of being too big as you fight to relax.  
Paul fills you again and again as you writhe and squirm, desperate to take as much of him as possible. He moves closer, thighs against the edge of the bed and the angle changes, the head of his cock hitting just right deep inside and your clit rubbing the sheets. The pleasure builds fast as you begin to shake, unable to control yourself.  
“Can I cum?” you beg, unsure of what you’ll do if he says no because this is completely out of your control.  
“Of course,” he responds as if you’re asking the silliest question he’s ever heard. “Cum on my cock, let me feel it.”  
His permission allows you to relax and enjoy the pleasure, but for only for a moment before you wind up and explode. Your pussy tightens around his thick shaft, desperate pulses, sucking and clutching him deeper as you call out, pressing your face into the bedding with a muffled scream.  
Your entire body winds up, goes tight and releases in a flood of relief and ecstasy that’s better than any orgasm you’ve ever had before. Paul doesn’t stop, he just slows down, fucking you through it, rocking steadily until you’re twitching and boneless.  
You lay there, limp, wilted on the bed as he takes you by the hips and fucks you with everything he’s got.  
“Don’t tell me you’re done already?” He chuckles, breathless as he thrusts into your cunt, the wet smack of your bodies only made louder by the sheen of sweat covering both of you.  
“I think you broke me,” you mutter, cheek pressed against the bed.  
“You can do better than that.” He slows for a moment, pressing all his weight over you with his cock deep inside. His hand snakes around your hip and under your belly, middle finger finding your clit.  
You jerk the moment he touches you, but there’s nothing you can do to get away, the combined weight of both your bodies keeps his arm pinned in place. You squirm as he rubs lightly over the sensitive bud.  
“I can’t-” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut and burying your head face-first into the bed. “I need a break, please.”  
“No breaks.” He swats your ass with his free hand and then begins to fuck you again, all while making torturous circles around your clit.  
“Paul!” His name comes out a plea, low and long as you squirm underneath him. He’s grinding deep, holding himself inside you with each stroke, before doing it all over again. “Please, please, it’s too much, I can’t cum again.”  
“Yes, you can.” He leans down, pressing the side of his face to your temple. “Concentrate on how it feels where I touch, how my cock feels inside you. Breathe slow and steady, stop thinking and just feel.”  
Your mouth opens wide, eyes still closed in concentration as you take a deep breath and focus on his finger, slowly moving over your clit. Every other stroke he uses two fingers, pressing on either side and then back to direct contact. He repeats this pattern a dozen times and you’re finally able to come down from your previous high, as he coaxes you toward a new growing pleasure.  
His cock is unrelenting, slow even strokes that force you to open up and take all of him in your pussy with every move of his hips.  
The pleasure builds on itself, each stroke, every touch bringing you closer and closer to some new finish line. It’s not desperate like the first orgasm, that was fast and explosive from days of teasing and anticipation. This is something deeper, a building thrill that starts between your legs and fans out in all directions.  
When you cum the second time there’s no warming. The gradual build stops, then bubbles over as the muscles of your stomach go taught, legs stiffening, neck arching backward. For a moment you can’t breathe, your whole body clenching in silent satisfaction, twitching and contracting. The next breath is a desperate sob, pleasure still coursing through you. You howl in desperation, momentarily on another planet. Your mind goes blank, there’s no Paul or job or contract, just the feeling of him filling you and ultimate gratification as you jerk in one final release and go slack.  
“Good girl,” he whispers, the warmth of his chest pressing over your back.  
He thrusts half a dozen times and holds himself balls deep in your cunt, grunting as he cums, shooting warm and thick in your overworked pussy.   
“Fuck.” He places a hand on your lower back and pulls out. One hand slaps your thighs further apart. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re aware that he’s appraising the mess he’s made between your legs, watching his cum drip out of you.  
He’s quiet for a moment and then you feel him flop onto the bed next to you. It’s the better part of ten minutes before you finally open your eyes, turning your head to look at him. He’s watching you as you blink, trying to free your brain from the fog of it all. You’re still pleasure-soaked and dizzy, floating on a high that shouldn’t even exist.  
“How do you feel?” he asks, reaching over to push sweat-soaked hair away from your face. The pads of his fingers trail over your temple, then upward sweeping across your forehead.  
“Like you drugged me.” You smile wide, looking at his pink cheeks.  
“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone cum that hard before.” His voice is soft, and there’s that look again. “You’re beautiful when you cum, it’s like watching someone die and come back to life.”  
“That’s sort of what it felt like.” You lie there, watching each other in silence for a long time. His fingers trailing along your hairline, gently stroking across skin, threading into your hair and across your scalp as you practically hum in contentment.  
Eventually, his hand falls away, sitting up with a groan. “I’m going to take a shower. You can join me if you want to.”  
“Would you prefer I leave now?” you ask, trying to gauge exactly what he wants from this as you roll over and prop yourself up. You appreciate his attention to your request of more thorough aftercare but you also don’t want him to placate you beyond what you need. This is a contractual arrangement after all.  
“You can go if you’d like to,” he offers, turning back to face you stark naked in the doorway. “Or you can take a shower and sleep here, with me.”  
You try to read his face, but he’s gone stealth again, mouth an even line, eyes staring right through you. You’re about to question this proposition when he beats you to the chase.  
“Don’t think for one second that I would offer something that I don’t want or enjoy. I have no desire to bend to anyone else’s needs. If I wanted you to leave, I would tell you to leave. But I’m asking you to stay.”  
And with that, he disappears into the bathroom, the shower turns on and you’re left wordless in his bed.


	11. Chapter 11

You sit there naked as the shower turns on. There’s a part of you that knows you should leave, it’s the safest way to ensure a clean division between sex and, well, everything else. But the truth is all the logic in the world doesn’t stop you from getting up and joining him in the shower.  
He turns toward you as you open the glass door and step inside, his hair slicked back. He moves out of the way for you to wet your hair before switching places. He doesn’t touch you, instead he watches as you lather your body with the hotel provided soap. His eyes follow as soapy hands move between your legs, then over your breasts. He waits for you to finish and then steps out, wrapping himself in a fluffy white towel, handing one to you before wordlessly disappearing back into the room.  
You follow him, toweling dry, trying to act casual as he stands stark naked, rubbing his hair with the towel and slipping into bed. You do the same, walking to the other side and crawling under the sheets as he reaches over and turns off the light.  
“Good night,” are his last words as he turns onto his side, facing away from you and settles in.  
-  
There’s a hand rubbing up and down your back as you lie belly down, still in the depths of sleep. Slowly you blink awake, the early morning sun shining through a crack in the curtains, cutting like a knife through butter into the dark of the room.  
While you don’t know what time it is, it’s still early enough that no part of you wants to move. It’s Paul’s voice that brings you back into the land of the living and the realization that you’re still in his bed.  
“You have to get up.” A big, warm hand spreads wide across your back, fingers fanning out. The feeling of his hands on you, skin on skin is a simple but rare pleasure.“It’s almost six and the guard will be here soon. Our flight leaves at nine, and you need to pack.”  
“It’s too early, just leave me here. I’ll live on the West Coast now.” you whisper, rolling onto your back. He’s hovering above you, propped up on one elbow looking bright eyed at this ungodly hour. “Do you ever sleep?”  
“Rarely.” He pushes a strand of hair back from your cheek. “Really, you need to get up.”  
“I’m moving.” With a final push, you force yourself to sit up and get out of bed. You’re naked and it’s cold as you hop around the room, trying to find your clothes and get dressed. Still half asleep you walk to the door in a daze and he follows you. “Last night was…incredible. Really, I’ve never felt anything like that.”  
He seems to enjoy your early morning confession, grinning as you yawn into the back of your hand.  
“Go on,” he opens the door. “You can sleep on the plane, you deserve it.”  
\--  
Next week, Friday afternoon  
Paul waits outside the door to the conference room as the fill-in assistant hands him the latest update on for the upcoming tour, projections on ticket sales, things that he needs to look over before the meeting with the band and band manager. He opens the folio, reading through the documents. He’s always fully prepared.  
“Do you need me?” she asks, “Because I need to finish the notes from your call. You’ll need the final numbers after the meeting to input.   
“No,” Paul shakes his head without look up. “I should be back in my office by eleven. We’ll have time to review.”  
She wanders off and Paul’s flips through page after page, scanning the notes. He’s not really listening, it’s your name that pulls him out of what he’s reading, moving closer to the open door.  
“I’m telling you she was practically begging for it,” he hears his guard explain.   
“If Y/N was so into it then why are you so hot and cold?” Another voice asks. “You’ve been after her since she’s started.”  
“Because every other guy has already been there.” he laughs. “I mean she’s a real whore, let me fuck her ass the first time. That’s how you know she’s been open for business.”  
“Shit,” someone else grunts. “If you don’t want her, I’ll damn sure get in line.”  
“Go for it man, two drinks and she was all over my dick like she hadn’t been fucked in years. She was starving for it.”  
\--  
“What is it?” Paul snips, looking up for only a second. You haven’t seen him since you got off the plane in New York last week. You know he’s been busy but you expected less hostility.  
“I need to show you something.” You inch into his office.  
“Can it wait?” He sits up, pulling off his glasses to stare you. He normally looks you up and down but right now his eyes are boring a hole into yours with an unwavering stare. “I’m busy. I don’t have time for you today.”  
Jesus.  
You take a breath, holding back with everything you have, you’ve wanted to cry for forty-eight hours but you didn’t think Paul would be the one to push you over the edge.  
“Um-” you stutter, words getting caught in your throat.  
“Um?” He raises an eyebrow. “Pull yourself together, use words like an adult.”  
You swallow hard, tears brimming, as you try to swallow the thump in your throat.  
“There’s something I came across when I was sorting through records that you ask me to look over.” You manage stable words, masking your looming breakdown.  
“And you’re bothering me with this why?” He asks plainly as if you’re some low-level employee he’s never laid eyes on before.  
“I just thought-”  
“What did you just think? That because I fucked you I would suddenly have time for whatever this is?” His eyes are on fire and you wished you could melt into the floor.  
“Jesus Christ, you’re a real dick, you know that?” you whisper, a tear running down your cheek, mouth trembling. “What did I do?”  
His eyes light up, rage threatening right there under the surface. “Why are you even here talking to me? I’m sure my guard has sometime for you, I’m sure.”  
You looked at him, wide-eyed.  
“You’ve heard?” You asked, feeling sick that he had heard the rumors that you had when you went to the warehouse last week from the workers.  
“Yes” Paul’s jaw locks, seething with anger. You’ve got no idea where this is coming from but you’re fully prepared to leave this building and never come back. “Stop crying, it’s pathetic.”  
“Because,” you close your eyes, fresh tears falling, you’re really crying now. You stare at the floor, unable to take any more of his glare. “Because he’s mad at me.”  
“Why is he mad at you?” He pushes as if he’s waiting for some lurid confession.  
“I wouldn’t sleep with him. He’s been an absolute asshole. He’s successfully made my life a living hell. I’m pretty sure he told everyone in the building that I’m a whore. I’ve got people I don’t even know whispering about me in the halls. I found something. I think it’s important so I came up here to tell you and now you’re…whatever this is. Please just take this so I can leave.”  
You hold out a folder, wincing as he steps forward. He takes the folder out of your hands, but the next thing you feel is both his hands cupping your face, thumbs pressed into your cheeks.  
“Calm down.” His voice is softer now, less commanding, more soothing.  
You look at him, and gone is his threatening stare, it’s been replaced by something gentler.  
“I haven’t done anything, to anyone.” you offer, stripped bare of pretense as you look up at him. “I’m just trying to help.”  
“I jumped to some conclusions, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” One of his hands moves from your face to your chest, placing his hand wide over your heart, resting between your breasts, guiding your breath. “I’m sorry.”  
While it doesn’t excuse his actions you’re fairly sure Paul Stanley rarely apologizes, if ever.  
“Okay,” you whisper, unable to dive any deeper, not right now at least.  
“I’ll look through what you brought and take care of the guard situation.”  
“I’m not a snitch,” you gulp, “I didn’t tell you to get him in trouble.”  
“I know that. But you did tell me and I can’t have one of my employees talking about another like this. I won’t allow this kind of hostile environment for anyone.”  
“He’s going to know I told you.”  
“He’s going to know you told HR, because that’s how we’ll deal with it.” He sets the folder on his desk and picks up his phone.  
“You’re done for the week. Go finish up any work that’s remaining. You’re going to spend the weekend with me.”  
“The weekend?” You look up, wiping tears as your mind tries to shift into whatever this new territory is. “I don’t have anything with me.”  
“You won’t need much.”  
-  
Dealing with him on a more intimate level it’s been easy to forget that he’s filthy fucking rich. He’s made more money than most people can dream of and this house is a jarring reminder that you’re in his world now.  
The floors are dark wood and everything else is stark white, it makes the place feel almost antiseptic. You take your shoes off and trail down the hallway that opens up into a generous living area, twice the size of your entire apartment. There is a couch, several chairs, and a coffee table. The walls are bare, save for one huge painting hanging on the wall, it’s all dark colors and strange shapes.  
You continue exploring, wandering down a narrow hall to the right and find the kitchen. It’s just as devoid of personality as the rest of the house. He could feed a small army and you wonder if he’s ever lonely being one man with all this unnecessary space.  
There’s a labyrinth of empty bedrooms, filled with furniture and not much else. At the end of this hall is his room, it’s unmistakable. In contrast to the rest of the place, there are splashes of color. The door to his closet is open and you slip inside, flipping on the light to find hundreds of suits, pressed and hung with meticulous care. There’s a second closet filled with his casual clothing, sneakers, and gym clothes. It sparks a lot of thought about what he’s truly like outside of the professional world.  
There’s a faint sound and you shut off the light and scrambling out of the room. You find him in the living room, slipping his jacket off and laying it over the back of a chair. He looks up, a half-smile crossing his lips.  
“You,” he points to you, shaking his head. “Just saved me from an utter disaster. I have twenty lawyers on that case, five paralegals and you’re the only who caught it.”  
“It was something?” you question, moving closer.  
“More than something. Embezzlement. If we had moved forward with our current strategy our reputation would have taken a massive hit, and the tour would not still be happening.”  
“Well, I’m glad I could help,” you offer, still reeling from the rollercoaster of a day you’ve had. “Before you say anything else, there’s something I need to say.”  
“What is it?” he asks, getting closer.  
“I know you have a lot going on. You’re busy and you don’t always have time for me. I understand that you’re blunt and like to get right to the point. But I can’t handle the way you spoke to me today. I enjoy what we have, but I won’t be around someone who treats me like that.”  
He waits for a beat, eyes honing in on you, his head tilting as his tongue darts out. You can practically see the gears turning.  
“I overheard a rumor and took it as truth. I, of all people, should know better,” he offers. “I don’t share. I’ve never played well with others and when I heard what I did, I reacted. I am sorry for that. I asked you to trust me and I need to trust you in return. It’s the only way this works. I trust you to keep your word, make good on your commitments. I will never speak to you that way again.”  
“Good.” You gulp, feeling suddenly small in his living room. “Let’s not talk about it anymore.”  
“Agreed.” He moves past you, reaching out to squeeze your arm as he heads off toward the kitchen and you follow. “Are you hungry?”  
“Yea - Yes. I am. I was so worked up all day, I haven’t eaten anything since last night,” you confess.   
“I’ll make something.” He opens the refrigerator, looking back you. “How do you feel about homemade pasta?”  
-  
“What I’m about to do is all about trust,” Paul explains as you sit naked in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs. His cock is thick and hard, trapped between your bellies.  
“I know,” you nod, one hand on each of his shoulders. Your nails sink into his skin, holding on like he’s already begun. You look him in the eyes, searching for understanding. “I trust you, I’m just…nervous.”  
“You’ll like it.” He nods, both hands holding your hips tightly. “It’s an incredible release.”  
His hand wedges between your bodies again, finding your clit, rubbing a few last times before he gets started. He’s spent the better part of an hour getting you worked up, you’re wet and throbbing, ready for more.   
“Lift up,” he instructs and you rise up on your knees as he takes his cock into his hand and slips the head into your pussy. “Now lower down, take it all.”  
You stare at him as you slide down his dick, not stopping until you’re filled to the brim.  
“Jesus,” you gasp, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. He’s thick, a wonderful stretch that sends little jolts of pleasure up your spine.  
“Hands behind your back.”  
You comply, placing your wrists together at the base of your spine. He picks up his discarded tie, reaching around and securing your wrists. The fact that he doesn’t need to see to be able to properly tie you up, has you both excited and concerned.  
Sitting back he looks at you, then down to where you’re sitting on his dick.  
“Fuck yourself on my cock, slowly.”  
Lifting up you hum with satisfaction, feeling the drag of him inside you. It’s only intensified when you sink back and find a rhythm, even and constant, as you stare at each other. After a few minutes he starts to breath faster, mouth clamped shut as he studies your face. One hand comes up and slides around your throat. His fingers nearly reach the back of your neck, thumb pressing into the opposite side under your jaw.   
He squeezes, not hard, just enough to make you feel the pressure and you whimper, sliding up and down his shaft. Leaning all the way back in the chair, he reaches between your bodies with his free hand and begins to carefully rub your clit.  
Your mouth falls open as the pleasure builds, everything between your legs slick and throbbing. His cock alone would be enough to get you off like this, you’re not used to the stretch yet, you doubt you ever will be, but it’s a wonderful challenge as you lift yourself up and down in his lap.  
“Feels so good,” you whisper, biting your lower lip, his thumb moving faster over your swollen clit.  
“Stick your tongue out,” he instructs. You blink, feeling the all too familiar shame creep in as you drop your jaw and stick your tongue out.  
He keeps you just like this as the minutes tick by, your whimpers and moans sound even more desperate with your mouth wide open, tongue hanging out like some kind of slutty porn star.  
Tugging at your hands you almost falter, only to have the hand around your throat grow tighter, holding you in place.  
“You don’t have to ask permission to cum, just let it happen.” And with that his lips curl and his fingers clench and suddenly you can’t breathe. You knew this was coming, he’d prepared you for it but the first time you can’t help the panic, your heart speeding up.  
For five seconds you are open-mouthed, fighting for air and then he lets up and you suck in a huge breath.  
“Don’t stop fucking,” he reminds you. You’ve slowed down but you pick up the pace, sliding back and forth more than up and down. “Tongue back out.”  
You comply and his grip tightens until you can’t breathe again and this time it’s longer. His thumb works faster over your bud, his hips rise up, keeping his cock moving inside you.  
This time it’s ten seconds, and by the time he lets go your whole body is hot, sweat breaking out from head to toe.  
You expected more pleasure, it’s not exactly bad but also not the pay off you anticipated.  
After a few deep breaths, you stick out your tongue and ride him as his fist closes around your throat, tighter than the two previous times. His thumb presses firm, you feel your orgasm building as he squeezes the last breath out of you. You start to squirm, pulling at the restraints out of instinct. A desperate gagging sound leaves your throat and you’re getting closer and closer and then it happens at the same time. Your vision starts to go spotty and you cum at the same time. He eases up, but barely, still controlling the air supply as you jerk on his cock.  
You’re floating and then there’s a rush of pure euphoria. It’s a tingling, weightless feeling that seamlessly melts into the pleasure of your orgasm and the whole world fades away. There’s nothing else, only the feeling of your body rolling up and down and an incredible pleasure between your legs.  
Unsure how long you’ve hung in this transcendental state, you blink, vision clearing only to find Paul staring at you, both his hands cupped around your cheeks, holding your head up.  
“Wow,” you whisper smiling like a fool, looking at him from under hooded eyes as an overwhelming wave of satisfaction and bliss sets in. “Thank you.”  
“It looked incredible.” His eyes are lit up and moving quickly, searching your face.  
“Untie me please,” you request softly, not entirely of sound mind yet.  
He blinks, hesitates for a moment, then one hand leaves your face to reach behind you to free your wrists. Without thinking you wrap yourself around him, both hands sliding behind his neck as you rest your head on his shoulder.  
His palms slide up your back, holding you as you come back down to earth, thumbs stroking back and forth until your breathing is back to normal. Once you’ve semi-recovered you sit up, inches away from his face as you look at each other. He’s even more handsome up close, the little wrinkles around his eyes and the pink of his lips are beautiful.  
Wordlessly you lift yourself up, letting his cock slide almost of your pussy before sinking back down, finding a pace that makes your thighs burn as you ride him, desperate to give him the same release he’s just gifted you.  
“Fuck,” he groans, head tipped back, the muscles of his neck straining. The two big hands on your hips pull you down onto him, holding you in place as he cums, spurting warm inside you until he’s finished.  
After a few minutes, he lifts you up and off his semi-hard cock, rubbing his knuckles directly over your cheek, a tender caress that makes your eyes close in response.  
“Now, get on your knees and suck my cock until it’s clean.”  
-  
“Paul,” you start, watching the subtitles on the muted TV as a newscaster talks about the upcoming election. “Why am I here?”  
“What do you mean?” he responds, only half paying attention.  
“I’m in your house, in your bed. You said you want to me stay all weekend. Don’t get me wrong, I want to be here, but I didn’t think you would want someone in your personal space.”  
“I don’t mind having you in my personal space as long as it’s at my request.” He explains evenly, glancing up. “I’ve been busy this last week. My schedule is only going to get tighter. Weekends might be the only time we get to see each for a while. I won’t have time for the same interactions while I’m at work.”  
“That makes sense.”  
“Are you alright with that? Do you have a cat that needs to be fed?”  
“No, no animals, no social life to speak of. We’re perfect for each other.” You smile and he grins looking back to the screen.  
“What will happen to him, your guard?” you ask, laying on your back staring at the ceiling of his bedroom.  
“Do you care?”  
“No. I’m sure he deserves whatever he gets,” you nod, the feeling of the last few days washing over you again.  
“What happened to make him so upset?” Paul’s inquiry seems genuine.  
“I turned him down. Some men are like that, for whatever reason they can’t handle being told no. Honestly, I had no idea he was that upset with me. I can only imagine what they all think of me. It’s so embarrassing.”  
“You’re not the one that has anything to be embarrassed about.” His eyes go back the report in front of him, sliding the screen up but still talking. “Even if everything he said was true, it shouldn’t matter.”  
He goes back to his work, reviewing some document that can’t wait until Monday and you lie there, pretending to watch a rerun of Frasier that comes on after the news broadcast.  
“Paul, can I ask you something?”  
“It seems like you’re going to regardless of my answer.” He glances at you.  
“Are you happy?”  
He stops, looking up and forward before turning to staring at you as if you’ve just asked him to hop on one foot.  
“Is anyone?”  
“I am.” You roll onto your side. “I mean, I’m not over the moon every day, but I’m content and I have moments of real, true happiness.”  
“Why are you asking me this?”  
“I was just thinking about you. I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have asked-”  
“It’s fine.” He sets down the tablet on the nightstand and rolls onto his side, propping his elbow on the pillow. “No, I’m not happy in a traditional sense. I’m satisfied. I’m focused, I accomplish things no one else would ever be able to. There are a lot of things you have to give up to have the career I’ve had. I built something. I gave up happiness for success, it was a conscious choice.”  
“Don’t you want more? ”  
“No.” He shakes his head without hesitation. “When you add too much into the mix, things get messy.”  
“Is that why you have me? I mean, you’re a pretty big deal. I can’t imagine you’re desperate for dates.”  
“I don’t date, I have no desire for that. Having people in your life makes you unfocused, they’re distractions.”  
“I’m not a distraction?” you inquire. A psychologist would have a field day with him.  
“You are exactly what I need you to be. I’m not a robot. I have the same base urges as every other red-blooded American male, but instead of marrying the first pretty girl with long legs that liked my money, I decided to leave sex in its own category. My life is compartmentalized, things run smoother that way.”  
“Do you have friends?”  
“Only a few, which is enough for me. Since i’m so busy all the time though I rarely see them. Just like Evan.” His voices wavers, just a little but you catch it, trying your best to not let on. “For me friends are either a liability or a disappointment. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t fall into one of the two categories.”  
“Geez, which one am I?”  
“You’re not my friend,” he states, eyes narrowing. “You are a category all your own.”  
“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.”


	12. Chapter 12

You spend the weekend naked and fucking in nearly every room of his house. Sucking his cock in the middle of the kitchen, laid out over his sofa on display while he reads the paper, spanked until your ass is bright red. By Sunday night you’re tied to his bed frame and looking forward to the work week so you can get a few nights of well-deserved rest. It’s almost midnight when he sends you home, patting your cheek in appreciation then standing in his doorway, watching as you walk toward the waiting car.   
There are faint black and blue marks around your wrists, leftover reminders of being bound and gagged. You look out the window, pressing on one wrist and enjoying the fading pain as the moment comes back in vivid detail. Paul can make your body respond, even when he’s not there.   
There is a question flickering to life in the back of your mind - how long can this last? But you push it down, refusing to acknowledge it.   
Five Months Later  
Life has been split into two categories. The normal work week, which is usually boring and predictable - you go to work, go home. You get the occasional text from Paul, a little homework every now and then but for the most part your professional life has turned into just that, strictly professional.   
It’s the weekends that you indulge in each other. From Friday afternoon until Sunday night you live in a sexual fantasy, engaging in whatever wonderful torture he decides to inflict. He was the one who talked of compartmentalizing his life but you’ve done the same.   
Turning, you find the new guard, looking as irritated as always. “He wants to see you. Now.”  
Paul hasn’t called for you in person, during work hours, in months. You’re taken off guard, looking sideways at him who is just as surprised as you are. You’ve done your best to keep the fact that you occasionally meet with him a secret. As far he knew you’re just another low-level assistant for the band.  
“Come on!” he snips, grabbing your arm and hauling you off. You follow him backstage, winding through a labyrinth of hallways until he stops at the door to a small room. You step inside and he closes the door.   
Paul is standing, one hand in his pocket eyes fixed on his phone. He looks up, smiling when he sees you. “Hello.”  
“Hi.” You clasp your hands together.   
“You look surprised. Am I interrupting something?” He cocks an eyebrow, stepping closer. Every action he makes has a purpose, especially the way he moves.   
“Not at all.” You tilt your chin up toward him. “I was just caught off guard. You don’t mix work and us these days. I’m always happy to come when you want me.”  
That last statement makes his eye twitch, nostrils flaring.   
“I’m glad to hear it.” He inches nearer, eyes dropping down your body. “I wanted to make sure that you don’t have plans this weekend.”  
“Do I ever have plans?” you counter, watching him lick his lips. You know one thing for sure, the longer this has gone on, the hungrier he is for you. And the feeling is mutual.   
“Yes, but today is your birthday. People normally celebrate with friends. You don’t have anyone coming into town?”  
“No,” you nod, holding your head high. “I’m all yours.”  
“Good. Be ready tonight at eight. Wear a dress, something nice. I’ll pick you up.”  
“We’re going out?”   
He hasn’t taken you anywhere other than his bed since Los Angeles. In fact, some weekends you never wear anything at all, naked from Friday to Sunday. You wonder if this is for your birthday or one of his social engagements. It’s not uncommon for him to take a date, but as far as you know it’s always either himself alone, or the band who accompanies him in public. He says it’s cleaner that way. Everyone presumes he’s single so there are no misunderstandings.   
“Yes,” he confirms. “No panties, hair down.” His eyes linger then he steps back, smoothing down his tie.   
“I look forward to it.” You watch as he leaves the room, always left in a wake of excitement and expectation.   
-  
It’s almost eight as you look in the mirror, adjusting your dress. It’s black and tight, falling just above your knee. The neckline is lower than you're used to but nothing scandalous. It’s the back that’s the real show stopper, it’s open all the way down to just above your ass crack. You hope it’s not too much, Paul will occasionally comment on your clothing choices but you think you’ve got a handle on his taste. Above all else he prefers class.   
His car pulls up just before eight. You’re waiting by the front door of your brownstone apartment building, hurrying down the steps, eager to find out what’s in store.   
The driver opens the door and you slide in next to him.   
“How are you tonight?” he asks, his hand already on your knee, slipping between your legs.   
“Excited. I haven’t been out in a long time.”   
“Well, let’s hope this evening lives up to your expectations,” he purrs, hand sliding just a little further up your leg. “I hope you’re not too hungry, we aren’t eating until after.”  
“After what?” You look up, his fingers pressing into the warm flesh inside of your thigh.   
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” He grins, giving you a squeeze and removing his hand. “Before we go any further, I need to tell you that I allowed Gene to choose a second assistant for the Tokyo trip next month. I expressed my preference for you, but he chose his to handle it. Plus your college courses and everything. Don’t want you to bail on your classes again like last time..”  
“That’s no surprise I guess.” You can’t help but be disappointed. “I mean, I’d like to see Japan, but yes my schedule. And you know better than anyone Gene hates me. We don’t work well together.”  
He chuckles. “He’s not one to hide his feelings.”   
“How long will you be gone for?”  
“Two weeks. Don’t worry, I’ll have you report to me every night. You’ll have a list of tasks for while I’m gone.” He holds his stare and you get lost in the moment, drowning in those eyes that you’ve come to know oh so well.   
“I look forward to it.”  
“I would expect nothing less. We’re here.” He points out the window as the car pulls up to the New York Museum of Modern Art.   
“We’re going here?” you ask looking back at him. “It’s closed.”  
“Not to us,” Paul corrects you, allowing the driver to help you out before following. You feel his hand on your naked back, sliding down to the dip in your lower back. He leans down to whisper in your ear. “Excellent choice.”  
“I thought you might like it.” You smile, taking his arm and walking toward the entrance. The thought dawns on you like a bolt of lightning. “This is the Yayoi exhibit.”  
“You said you wanted to see it didn’t you? The timing was perfect.” He looks proud of himself as a porter opens the front door for you.   
“I said I wanted tickets-” You’re dumbfounded, looking around at the empty museum.   
“This is better. A private viewing without the distractions.”   
There’s a man bustling toward you with several people following.   
“Mr. Stanley!” A short, sharply dressed man extends his hand. “We are so honored to have you here. I’m Cecil Baton, the general director. On behalf of the entire board, we want to extend our heartfelt thanks for all the support you’ve offered over the years.”  
“It’s my pleasure.” Paul nods in confirmation, slipping an arm around your waist to pull you forward. “This is Y/N, she’s very much looking forward to seeing Infinity Mirrors.”  
Cecil takes your hand, shaking it vigorously.   
“We are thrilled to be able to repay your generosity by hosting a viewing for you and your lovely friend.” Cecil makes a tsking sound and a uniformed waiter steps forward with two flutes of champagne. “May we interest you in a glass of Dom Perignon?”  
“Thank you for the gesture,,” Paul affirms and looks to you. “Go ahead.”  
You hesitate for a moment before taking the glass off the tray and then the two of you are whisked down a hall, as you explore the wonders of each colorful, unique room.   
By the time you’re done, you’ve finished three glasses of champagne and are floating on cloud nine as Cecil chatters away, walking you out. He goes on and on about how wonderful Paul is. Leaving you to ponder exactly how much money he must have donated to get a reception like this. You probably don’t want to know.   
“What did you think?” he inquires as you walk back toward the car.   
“It was...better than I could have imagined. What an experience.” You feel like you’re vibrating with happiness. While you’ve never lived through any kind of cruelty, you’ve also never been pampered in any sense of the word. This is a scenario you could never have imagined. You turn to him, stopping in your tracks and gripping both his arms. “Thank you so, so much.”   
“It was nothing.” He shakes it off, giving your elbow a squeeze. “Come on, we’ll be late for dinner.”   
-  
Dinner is at a French restaurant called Mistral.   
He orders for you, but he’s better at it now than he was in the beginning. He’s come to know your preferences, even ordering you a fourth glass of champagne, toasting you with his own glass of wine.   
“Paul,” you start, looking from the tuna tartar. “Is there a reason you haven’t touched me yet tonight?”  
“I touched you in the car,” he smirks.   
“Yes, but you didn’t touch me. I mean, you are going to, aren’t you?”  
“Don’t worry,” he chuckles, sitting back in his seat, one arm resting on the table. “It’s your birthday. The one day of the year I’m going to leave it up to you. Start thinking about what you want tonight. It’s your choice.”  
You can’t help your grin, giggling a little as you sip from the flute. “I’m not sure I even know where to start.”  
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” With a genuine laugh, he goes back to his salad as you talk about your favorite part of the exhibit and the various other artists you hope to see in your lifetime. When you finish he’s quietly watching you, seemingly satisfied to sit and listen as you ramble on. “Do you have anything on your bucket list? I know you have more money than God, so you can probably see and do anything you want but there’s gotta be something.”   
“Hmm,” he indulges your question, really giving it thought. “I want to see the northern lights. I’ve never had the chance. Always to busy to travel outside of traveling for tour”  
“That’s a good one,” you agree as your empty plate is swapped out for a giant tower of chocolate and raspberries. You almost squeal, a little tipsy and having arguably the best birthday of your life. “Come on, try some. One spoonful of sugar won’t kill you.”  
“No.” He shakes his head, face lit up in amusement.   
“Oh come on Paul, it’s my birthday. You said I’m in charge tonight...one bite.”   
He contemplates your request and just when you think he’s going to tell you no he reaches over and spoons a bite of your dessert. Popping it in his mouth and wincing, “too sugary.”  
“Your loss,” you laugh, digging in.   
-  
“Have you decided?” Paul's teasing, watching you blush in the low light of his bedroom.   
“Yes,” you nod. “There are several things I’d like tonight, but first I want you to take your clothes off.”  
He raises his eyebrows, but compiles immediately, toeing his shoes off and reaching for the buttons on his shirt. You do the same, stripping down until you’re both nude and staring at each other. He’s already half hard, cock thickening right before your eyes.   
“In a little bit, I want to suck your cock. Then I’d like you to spank me, not too hard though.” You explain, biting your bottom lip as he nods in agreement.   
“We can do both those things.”  
“But first I want you to lay down on the bed.” You clear your throat, not comfortable giving the instructions. This is his territory.   
He walks over to the bed, sitting down before laying back on the pillows. You crawl over him, straddling his legs, then moving until you’re sitting across his upper thighs, his erection standing tall against your stomach.   
“I want to touch you,” you admit, watching him blink in response. You reach up, placing your open palms over his chest, feeling him twitch under your touch. Fanning outward you sweep your palms over his chest and toward his shoulders, sliding over warm skin. Both his hands are resting on your thighs. He sighs when you run your nails through the hair on his forearms and then lean forward to suck on the skin of his neck.   
A low groan leaves his throat as you nip at the juncture of his neck and shoulder and before you think better of it you place a kiss just under his ear. It’s a lingering touch and then you do it again and again moving downward until you find yourself under his jaw, scraping teeth over his five o’clock shadow. When you raise your head to look down at him, his eyes are closed, popping open seconds later. Staring at each other, his hands slide around to cup your ass cheeks, rocking upward as his cock rubs over your stomach.   
You shift forward and rub your clit against his cock, nose pressed into the side of his cheek.   
“Fuck my mouth,” you whisper.  
Paul moves in record time, flipping you onto your back as you yelp in surprise. Getting off the bed he grabs you by the ankle rolling you onto your belly then turning you in a half circle until your head is hanging over the edge of the bed.   
“Open.” Your jaw falls slack as he slides the head of his dick past your lips and you suck hard, as he slides forward. “Take it,” Paul purrs, reaching down to stroke your cheek as his cock hits the back of your throat. You hum around his dick, let him push forward until his balls press into your chin. “Just like that.”  
His deep voice conveying words of praise go straight to your clit, throbbing between your legs, triggering the slick that’s leaking from your sex. You let him fuck your throat looking up as he stares down at you with forced concentration. Without warning, he pulls out of your mouth leaving a trail of spit as he taps your shoulder like he’s tapping out of a fight.   
“Roll over,” he commands, big hands turning you over as you comply without hesitation. Head tilting backward over the edge of the bed, upside down. He places one hand at the side of your face, the other on his cock as he pushes back between your lips. “Open up.”  
He slides his cock over your tongue and past your uvula as you swallow him whole. Pressing forward he watches the bulge in your throat, then reaches down to rub the outline of the head of his cock as you choke around him. “Fucking perfect.”   
He holds himself there for a five count, you know it well. He’s rough, but consistent which helps for things like this. The next one will be longer, but if you count to ten you know he’ll give you relief.   
He pulls out, drool leaking over the sides of your face as you gasp for air. Holding his spit-wet dick in his hand he rubs the head over your face, tapping your cheek several times before sliding back inside, right back into the deep stretch while you concentrate on breathing through your nose.   
This is one of your favorite things. While you knew you liked sucking dick, having him fuck your mouth as you lay on the bed is a whole other level. Your pussy is slick, throbbing with excitement as you gag around his thick shaft.   
“I can see my cock in your throat,” he observes, rubbing the bulge with two fingers. He pulls back, leaving you a mess of spit and tears, eyes watering, but you eagerly open back up, tongue out as he thrusts back in. “Do you like this? Choking on a cock?”  
“Uhhh,” you rattle, vibrating around him, unable to do little more than make desperate gurgling sounds.   
“I know you do.” He strokes your cheek, rocking forward, getting just a tiny bit deeper. “What do you say?”  
“Huh ooo,” is your version of thank you as you swallow him whole.   
“Where do you want me to cum?” he grunts, pulling out. You look up at the sight of him holding his cock in his hand, inches from your face.   
“In my mouth,” you confirm, clamping your thighs together. “I want to taste you.”  
“Open wide.” Reaching forward he gives your nipple a hard squeeze before jerks himself with the head of his cock on your tongue. A half dozen strokes later he's cumming warm and salty as you suck and swallow with fervor. “Keep sucking, just like that,” he instructs as your tongue gently swirls around the sensitive head.   
When he’s really into it he can stay hard after he cums. He’s done it plenty of times before. He can’t always get off again, but he can damn sure fuck you into next week.   
You carefully attend to his cock, rolling his balls in your hand until he’s sufficiently aroused and then he pulls you off his dick by your hair.   
“On your hand and knees,” he instructs, gesturing toward the bed. You scramble into position, feeling your pussy ache as he knees his way between your calves. “You want me to spank you?”  
“Yes, please.” You look back at him, arching your back, widening your legs.   
“You’re going to get a spanking while my cock is in your pussy,” he huffs, running a hand over your lower back, down the crack of your ass. “Make sure you ask before you cum. No more rule breaking, not even on your birthday.”   
You swallowed his load before he told you to, part of you was wondering if he’d punish you for it.   
“I understand,” you confirm feeling the thick head of his cock sink into your slippery pink cunt. It’s an easy slide despite his size, but you're wet enough to take him to the root on the first stroke. He holds himself deep, balls pressed into your mound and then his hand comes down on your backside.   
Crack. Crack. Crack.   
It’s perfect. He knows your body to a tee, knows exactly how hard you like it. His harder spanks are saved for discipline and his softer ones are teasing, but this is the perfect sting.   
“It’s your birthday, twenty-nine would be the tradition, wouldn’t it?” He strokes in and out, nestling back inside before bestowing three more smacks on the other cheek.   
Crack. Crack. Crack.   
“Fuck,” you breath, clenching around his shaft.   
He pulls out, only to thrust back inside and then they come in rapid succession. Too many to count. All you can do is howl, twisting on his cock until he finally stops, both hands gripping your ass, squeezing.   
“Would you like to cum now?” His inquiry is accompanied by a series of shallow thrusts.   
“Yes.”  
“How? Like this?” You’re not used to being asked for your preference and hesitate before answering.   
“Yes, but I want you to hold yourself deep and rub my clit.”  
He snorts, leaning over your back. “Anything for the birthday girl.”  
Pressing forward he stuffs your cunt until he’s right against your cervix, sending out those little sparks of pain you love so much. His middle finger finds its way to your clit, making soft circles and you’re already there.   
“May I cum?” you pant, eyes shut, mouth hanging open.   
“Yes.”   
It’s the only permission you need before falling over the edge and cumming around his cock. You jerk, moaning and whimpering as you tighten around his shaft. He takes his hand away from your bud but holds himself inside you until your orgasm begins to fade. He pulls out only to slide back inside again, thrusting slow and even, two hands gripping your hips.   
“We’re going to get one more out of you tonight.”  
-  
You’re sweating.   
You flex, blinking awake trying to figure out why you’re overheated only to find Paul wrapped around you, his chest pressed against your shoulder blades, soft belly at the small of your back.   
It’s not the first time. He often slings an arm over you in his sleep, but he’s never cocooned you before. You wiggle backward, testing the waters and his grip tightens as the arm over your side curls under your stomach, pulling you back into him.   
If he woke up like this you’re not sure what reaction he’d have. The two of you live in a strange world, a weekend relationship devoid of soft affection but always intense. The two of you have slipped into a safe space, an agreement and routine that seems to be working. This isn’t moving backward or forward, you’re stuck in a loop of sex and gratification that never fails to leave you somewhat crestfallen as you head into the week. You spend your time waiting until you’ll see him next, hoping for a little more.   
You lie there, half awake, body hyper aware of him holding you for nearly two hours. It’s morning when he finally rolls away, grunting in his sleep and flipping onto his stomach retreating back to his side of the bed.   
Paul’s sleeping belly down in the bed, mouth open as his back slowly rises and falls with his breath. You lay there, unmoving, watching his relaxed features, that handsome face looking almost boyish with his pink-flush cheek smashed into the pillow. He’d never let you gaze at him like this if he was awake, so you indulge while you can.   
There’s no need to look at the clock to know it’s early, the way the light filters through his windows shifts depending on the time of day. That and he’s not up yet. It must be before six if he’s still out like a light.   
The clock confirms it’s five forty-five and for once on a Saturday morning, you’re willingly awake before noon. He normally let’s you sleep in while he goes for a run and does a few hours of work. You give him one last look and gently crawl out of bed, pulling on white cotton panties and foregoing all other clothes, heading to the kitchen to make tea.   
You’ve just taken the kettle off the stove when you hear it, a shuffling behind you.   
“What are you doing up?” he asks, as you look behind you, trying to keep the huge smile off your face at him half-asleep walking towards you still pulling on pajama bottoms.  
“Woke up couldn’t go back to sleep so i’m making tea.” You said, as you were still smiling, because his hair was everywhere, which was so unlike him usually.  
“Its 4 o’ clock in the morning.” he grumbled, as he went to grab two cups from the dish rack, pouring the hot water into them and opening up tea bags and placing them into the cups, passing one over to you.  
“So since I have you exactly where I want you, uncaffeinated and half asleep, would you like to explain what category exactly that I fit into with you.” you say, carefully sipping at you tea, turning to face him. And couldn’t help that your eyes were glued to the very prominent v, that was right above where the pajama bottoms started, and where you could see the beginning dark hair, as you licked your lips, completely forgetting what you asked him.  
He tilts his head at you, looking you up and down.  
“In a category that hasn’t been filled by anyone in a long time. I would go further but you are breaking the rules.” he said, as he nodded at you, downing the rest of the tea.  
“Oh yes, I forgot Mr. Stanley doesn’t like it when I wear underwear.” you say, as he pulls you to him, his fingers slipped under the elastic of the underwear, ripping them off of you, and picking you up and taking you back to the bed, as you laughed the entire time.


	13. Chapter 13

Three Weeks Later   
Paul has been in Japan for almost two weeks but it feels more like two years. You’d fallen into a comfortable routine and it’s strange to go more than a week without being in the same room with him.   
Your phone vibrates at eleven o’clock sharp, signaling Paul’s incoming video call. You swipe to answer, glancing up to ensure the living room curtains are shut. The last thing you need is one of your neighbors watching you masturbate on command.   
“Hi,” you smile as his pixelated face appears on the screen.   
“Hello,” he replies, distracted by whatever he’s looking at. His face becomes clear as the connection strengthens. This is his lunch break which inevitably means time will be limited. His eyes snap between something he’s reading and your image on the screen. “Set your phone up so I can see your entire body.”  
“Okay,” you respond, getting up to prop your phone on a stack of books in the middle of the coffee table. This is not the first night you’ve been in this position and you’ve perfected the setup. You take a seat on the couch, making sure you’re in the frame as he glances up.   
“Take your clothes off. Everything.” He forgoes whatever else has his interest, focusing solely on you, watching stoically as you strip down, shimmying out of your panties then letting your bra fall to the floor.   
There’s a faint knock coming from his end and he instantly looks annoyed, looking up as he calls to whoever it is. “Come in.”  
“I don’t want to bother you during lunch Mr. Stanley,” Lexi’s voice is immediately recognizable in the background. Gene’s assistant that he insisted on bringing on the trip. You lean closer to the phone, listening carefully. “I just wanted to pop in and make sure you have everything you need.”  
You know that tone, playfully and airy. It’s the same one she uses at the bar when she’s trying to hook up with some junior associate. She’s flirting with Paul Stanley. You assumed that no one would have the balls to approach him but you’ve clearly underestimated her.   
“I do,” Paul stares at her with his trademark uncomfortable, unwavering stare you’ve been on the receiving end of from time to time. “Have everything I need.”  
There’s silence. She’s obviously still there because he hasn’t turned his attention back to you.   
“You can go.” He watches off the screen and you wait until you hear the faint click of a door and he turns back to his phone.   
“What is she doing-” you start but Paul is already moving on.   
“She isn’t your concern.” He chastises you immediately, bringing on all the familiar feelings of subjugation that never fail to turn you on despite your own shame. “Open your legs and touch yourself. Make sure I can see your cunt.”   
You lean back on the couch spreading your legs wide. One finger slides into your mouth, parting your lips just enough to flick your tongue against it. Then you run your fingertips lightly down your body, over your breasts.   
Paul shifts, clearing his throat as he settles in to watch you. You wonder if he’s touching himself, stroking his own cock or is he just directing and watching? One never knows with him.   
“Are you wet?” he asks firmly.   
You continue to move your hand down across your belly, over your mound and slipping one finger between your folds, breath catching in your throat.   
“Yes,” you nod, feeling your own slick.   
“Did you masturbate this morning like I told you to?” he inquires like a teacher ready to reprimand a petulant child.   
“Yes,” you confirm with a whimper, slowly dipping a finger between warm flesh.   
“Good. We’re going to try something different. Get the oil out of the box and oil yourself up.”  
Paul presented you with a box of special toys before he left on his business trip and the two of you have been working your way through all the contents.   
You find the bottle of massage oil and pour it into your hands, rubbing it over your arms and neck, then running your hands down the sides of your breasts. You lift one leg onto the coffee table giving the camera a better view of your pussy and you work on one leg. Then repeat the process, stroking and caressing your inner thighs. When you are done you sit back, presenting your now glistening body for his inspection.   
“Very nice,” his eyes fall from your tits to your pussy, tongue darting out. “Grab your breasts.”  
You slide both hands over your breasts, feeling your nipples harden with a soft moan of anticipation.   
“Not that like,” he snaps, shaking his head and your eyes shoot up, hands falling to your sides. If there’s one thing you truly hate, it’s his disappointment. It’s not often that he corrects you so severely but being relegated to only video chat has been testing his patience. “Listen to me. From now on your hands are my hands. When I tell you to touch yourself, I want you to picture my hands doing the touching, do you understand?”  
“Yes,” you nod, sitting still, legs spread.   
“Put more oil in your hands,” he instructs, leaning closer to his screen.   
You comply, picking up the oil and spreading it over your palms.   
“Now,” his head tilts, jaw tightening. “Pinch your nipples hard. Your hands are my hands and tonight I’m going to be rough. You know the way I touch you. Do it.”  
You squeeze your nipples, twisting them harder than you intend to. A cry escapes your lips as you feel yourself sliding into that place where you turn yourself over to him. Your hands continue to pinch harder and harder, biting down on your nipple the way he would until you cry out again.   
“Harder” he encourages.   
You pull, feeling the stretch and gripping as hard as you can, gasping in pain that shoots from your tits to your pussy and becomes instant arousal, your clit aching between your thighs.   
“Good girl. Spread your legs wider, keep pulling on your nipples with one hand. With the other, shove your fingers into your cunt.”   
Hooking one leg over the arm of the couch you lean back, offering him an unobstructed view. Giving your breast a sharp tug you slide a hand between your thighs, two fingers sliding into your slick, deep and fast just like when he fingers you. It feels almost as if he is the one touching you as you fuck yourself rough and quick. The familiar wet sound of your pussy taking your fingers fills the room as you close your eyes and lay your head back, the world shrinking away while you imagine Sam touching you, tugging and pulling, fucking you hard and deep. A series of short, sharp cries leave your mouth as the hot flush of an orgasm begins to build.   
“Can I cum?” you ask, already knowing the answer.   
“Absolutely not,” he quips.   
Mustering every last ounce of self-control you pull your hand away, whimpering when your fingers leave your body. You’re quivering, shaking with need. It’s been nine days since he let you cum and you’re practically vibrating with need. To be fair he gave you a warning. No orgasms until he returns from Japan, you’re not allowed to cum without his fingers or his cock in you, no exceptions.   
“We’re going to try again. Spread your pussy open and pour the oil over your cunt.”   
Your fingers slide back between your legs, spreading your lips open. You pick up the oil and pour it slowly in a thin stream over your folds. The sensation of the cool oil dripping over your exposed clit and between your legs makes you shiver.   
“This time fuck yourself with three fingers.”  
Running your fingers over your sex, the other hand finds your breast again, clamping down painfully hard on one nipple as you slide three fingers inside your cunt. You gasp, rocking your hips against your hand, driving deeper just like he does.   
“Spread your pussy open and angle your hips toward the camera. Let me see you.”  
You inch forward, pushing your fingers deeper still and scissoring them open, forcing yourself open for his viewing pleasure. There’s an incredible feeling of vulnerability, exposed and humiliated as you hold yourself open for him to watch you.   
“Your pussy is begging for it, but I think you’re missing something else. Get the vibrator out of the bag and then lube it up. Make sure you cover the whole thing.”  
“You want me to…” you trail off, sitting up to stare at him. He’s close to his phone, his face is the only thing visible.   
“You know exactly what I want you to do.”   
He’s been fixated on one specific torment this entire trip.   
Your hands are nearly shaking as you reach for the box, withdrawing a rather powerful vibrator roughly twice the width of his thumb. You lube up the wand squeezing a thick ribbon of jelly along the hard plastic, all the while feeling the oil already slick between your thighs.   
“You know what to do.” He cocks an eyebrow as if he’s expecting you to protest.   
Feeling the heat in your cheeks you spread your legs again, pressing the blunt end of the vibrator against the tight ring of muscle between your butt cheeks. There is nothing that brings more shame or more arousal than this.   
“Good girl. All at once. You’re going to tell me how much you want it up your ass when you push it in.”   
You shudder in complete embarrassment. He knows exactly what this does to you. It’s degrading and exhilarating all at the same time. You’re ashamed to admit that you enjoy it. “But-”  
“Do it. Say it loud. Push it in. Right now,” he grits out.   
You take a deep breath, then in one smooth motion slide the vibrator into your ass as far you can. “I want it so bad, so deep like this...oh fuck.”  
Before you have a chance to adjust he continues. “Turn it on.”  
“I can’t,” you whimper, squirming as you hold your legs open.   
“Why?” He tilts his head, eyes narrowing at your refusal.   
“I’ll cum,” you admit.   
“Turn it on. And don’t you dare cum without permission. If I have to tell you again you’re not going like what happens when I see you in person.”  
The vibrator is one of your favorite toys, but it’s a source of torment as well. He knows full well it makes it nearly impossible to not cum and he’s become fond of using it on you, refusing to allow you to orgasm while making you masturbate with it both anally and vaginally.   
Reaching between your legs you turn the small knob at the base and it comes to life, sending shock waves of pleasure through your body.   
“Oh, oh, oh,” you pant, eyes closing as you writhe and wiggle.   
“Does it feel good?” He loves to make you admit how much you enjoy these depraved acts.   
“Yes,” you moan, hands rubbing down the tops of your thighs, trying to hold on to what little control you have left. Your orgasm is building, it wouldn't take much and if he makes you touch yourself again there will be no holding back.   
But instead, he does something equally cruel.   
“I think that’s enough for now,” he explains flippantly as if he’s already moved on to something else. “Turn it off and clean yourself up. I’ll see you tomorrow, same time.”   
The screen goes blank when he hangs up leaving you on the edge of pleasure and desperation.  
-  
Three days later you’re locked in a windowless conference room, waiting for Paul’s call. He’s an hour late, which is unheard of. It’s 11 am your time which means it’s midnight there.  
Staring at the screen you watch the minutes tick by, trying to make a decision. What if he forgot? That’s unlikely. Paul doesn't forget anything. Maybe he fell asleep?   
He’s flying home tomorrow, it’s possible he just lost track of time in preparation. Your thumb hovers over the call button, tapping it as his name appears on the screen.   
After exactly three rings the line picks up, the screen fumbles for a second and Lexi’s face appears. She looks just as surprised to see you as you are her. Your mind races, it’s late and she has his phone.   
“Hey, umm,” you stumble trying to think of a cover. “Did I dial the wrong number?”  
“No!” She smiles wide. “That’s so weird, your name came up as Hester something or other. His phone must be messed up.”  
You nearly choke, realizing Paul’s reference to the Scarlet Letter and thankful that Lexi isn’t more well read.   
“Yeah, that’s so weird. Why do you have his phone? It’s super late there isn’t it?”  
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she chatters on. “I was...oh, you have a call,” she looks off-screen. “I answered it for you I hope you don’t-’  
Paul’s face is immediately on camera, looking at you like he’s ready to murder someone. “I’ll see you when I’m back in the office.”   
\--  
Two Days Later  
“Hi,” Lexi drapes herself over cubicle wall of your desk. “I am so glad to be home.”  
You haven’t spoken to Paul since that night when she answered his phone. While you understand he doesn’t always have time to give you his full attention you’re still uncomfortable with the circumstances and eager to see him again. Lexi is the last thing you need right now.   
“Well,” you swallow your feelings, it’s not her fault after all. She doesn’t know she’s encroaching into your territory. “Welcome home. You didn’t like Tokyo?”  
“Oh you know. Gene is a dick even when he thinks he’s being nice and the food was disgusting…” Her finger trails along the edge of your desk, biting her lip as she looks up at you, almost vibrating with whatever she wants to tell you. “But other things weren’t so bad.”  
“Oh?” You turn back to your screen, unable to look at her.   
“You’re going to think I’m crazy and you have to promise me that you’re not going to tell anyone.”   
“Maybe you shouldn’t tell me then? If it’s supposed to be a secret.”  
“You’re no fun….I have to tell someone,” she whines, pulling a chair over and inching right up into your personal space. “This is so wild, but Paul and I got sort of...close during the trip.”  
Every inch of your body goes hot, instant adrenaline pumping in your veins.   
“What exactly do you mean by close?” you inquire, folding your hands together in your lap.   
“You know how it goes, one thing leads to another. Late nights in hotel rooms, he practically asked me to stay the night with him. I know everyone thinks he’s a hardass but under all that he’s just a man. He’s kind of handsome, don’t you think?”   
“I haven’t given it much thought.” You clear your throat. “Sorry, I have to pee.”  
Before Lexi has the chance to say another word you’re up and out of your seat, locking yourself in the nearest bathroom feeling a combination of anger and nausea.   
You’re shocked by your own reaction. If you’re honest with yourself there have been certain feelings creeping in, it’s unavoidable when you spend as much time with someone as you have with Paul. You tell yourself you’d feel the same way if he was just a friend. He’s always been crystal clear about what you are to him, and you’ve used that division to keep a deeper attachment from forming, or so you thought. But the idea of Paul and Lexi of all people is bringing emotions to the surface you’re not at all ready to deal with.   
You knew she was in his room. She answered his phone, looking less than professional and he chose not to offer any explanation. Is it possible? Would he fuck her? Why not? You have no power to enforce your contract, it’s for his safety, not yours. Being reminded that you were forced to sign a piece of paper, to agree to his terms brings your anger and frustration to a head.   
And the things he’s had you do while he’s been gone, you’ve acted like a whore performing for him, complying with every request with enthusiasm, only to have Lexi talk about how close they’ve gotten.   
Wiping a tear from your eye, you pull out your phone.  
Y/N: I need to talk to you.   
You send off the message instantly filled with regret. You’re upset, you should wait until you’ve got your emotions under control. Taking a series of deep breaths you look at yourself in the mirror, staring at rosy cheeks and wild eyes.   
You phone dings twice.  
Paul: I’m busy today.   
Paul: Is it important?  
You stare down at the phone, mouth twisting as you debate your response.   
Y/N: Yes.   
There’s almost no delay before his answer pops up.   
Paul: Come to my office now.   
After smoothing back your hair you take a final breath and head toward the elevators. The new guard, who isn’t even new anymore, but still seems to despise you, doesn’t even look up as you pass his desk. Instead, he mumbles something about Paul warning him you were headed up and waves you inside.   
Paul’s at his desk, focused on his laptop. He glances up for a split second, looking rather unhappy with your interruption. “Make it quick.”   
“Don’t talk to me like that,” you snap, surprising yourself as much as him. His eyebrows shoot up, all attention focusing on you as he stands up slowly, clearly not in the mood for a challenge.   
“Excuse me?” He walks around his desk, mouth twisting in displeasure.   
“Did you fuck Lexi?” You just put it out there. On the way up to his office you went over and over it in your brain, you had a whole speech prepared about expectations and trust but now as you stand in front of him it just tumbles right out.   
For a split second he looks genuinely perplexed, then his grave expression turns into amusement as he crosses his arms over his chest, examining you.   
“Why are you asking?” His question is calm but leaves no room for debate.   
“Because she was in your room, she answered your phone...and she just told me…” As you say the words you’re already realizing you don’t really believe it yourself. Paul and Lexi; it’s ridiculous. Closing your eyes you shake your head in embarrassment. “I’m overreacting, aren’t I? Lexi exaggerates everything.”   
“Yes, she does.” Paul nods, his eyes falling down your body. It’s been fifteen days since you’ve been in the same room and there’s no doubt he feels the same arousal at your physical proximity. “That not to say that she didn’t try. Your friend put me in a series of incredibly inappropriate situations that I don’t wish to relive, especially with you. She won’t be working for me again.”  
“Good.” You look at the floor, pressing your lips together. “To be clear, Lexi isn’t my friend.”  
“I don’t care about semantics.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this conversation is really taking a toll on him. “Now, if you don’t have any other burning questions, you need to leave because I need to focus. I have a week’s worth of reports to review and you are the ultimate distraction.”  
“Oh, o-okay,” you sputter, both offended and flattered. “Sorry for bothering you, I was just, I...I’ve just got a lot of pent up frustration and then she said what she said and I…”  
“Got jealous?” One eyebrow shoots up and you’d swear there’s a pull at the corner of his mouth. A ghost of a smirk.   
“A little,” you confess.  
“Go,” he waves a hand, walking back around his desk. “Come over tonight. I’ll send a car for you around nine and we’ll take care of your frustrations.”  
“But it’s Thursday?” You hesitate, unprepared for the last minute surprise.   
“I’m aware,” he stares you at again. “I’ll see you tonight.”


	14. Chapter 14

The drive from your dorm to Paul’s house takes nearly an hour in traffic. The city fades into suburbs and then becomes even more rural as you escape the city. You know this route well, traveling it at least twice a week for the last several months. His modern mansion is tucked away on a sizable piece of land assuring him the privacy he craves. You can’t help but wonder what the night will hold. Your stomach is uneasy, a combination of nerves and excitement that’s all too familiar when it comes to Paul Stanley.  
You can’t believe that you actually did it, you went to his office and confronted him about Lexi. It was an idiotic move. As much as you hate to admit it, you care what he thinks of you, a great deal actually. And now you’ve made yourself look like a jealous girlfriend. You can only imagine what he must think. It’s a coin toss how he’ll react once you’re in the privacy of his home. He may reprimand you or perhaps he’s been craving you just as much as you have him. After weeks away you’re hoping for some well deserved relief.  
At least your unscheduled visit to his office garnered you an invitation for a Thursday night encounter. Weeknights have always been off limits, but he seemed more than willing to make an exception.  
You let yourself in the front door, sliding off your shoes and padding down the hall to the living room where you find Paul sitting in an armchair, reading a book. The sun has already set and the only lights in the room are that of a dim reading lamp and the flame glowing in the electric fireplace.  
“Take your clothes off,” he commands without looking up.  
You watch a moment as he turns the page, fixated on his book as you begin to undress. You’re well aware there must be something wrong with you because his utter disinterest is sometimes what flips a switch inside you, turns on your need to please him. Slipping off your dress, you unhook your bra letting it tumble to the ground, leaving you nude in the flickering firelight. Your hair is still up in today’s bun and you unpin it, letting it fall around your shoulders.  
He’s moved the coffee table out of the center of the room and there’s a square black box on the floor in its place.  
You wait, shifting your weight as your nipples go rock hard, cold shivers traveling from head to toe.  
Paul carefully bookmarks the page and sets the book on the table beside him. Then he takes off his glasses, setting them atop the book. He examines you, head tilting as both his arms extend along the armrests of the chair.  
“Seeing you in the flesh is much more satisfying than over video,” he comments, even and measured. “Tell me, do you enjoy the things I have you do to yourself?”  
You swallow, the ever present blush creeping into your cheeks.  
“Yes,” you whisper, eyes locked on his.  
“What about it do you enjoy most?” His thumb rubs against his middle finger, a telltale sign that he’s already thinking of new ways to torture you.  
“I-” You stop to think about the last few weeks and his box of toys that had you completely and utterly embarrassed and on the edge of pleasure every night. “It makes me feel like a whore, to do those things to myself. I think it’s the idea of you making me do them that gets me off.”  
“You could say no,” he offers casually.  
“I suppose, but I like to pretend that’s not an option,” you admit bashfully, hands clenching and unclenching at your sides. Your clit is already throbbing, the conversation alone sending little waves of pleasure between your legs.  
“You like to feel controlled?” he clarifies, tongue darting out to lick his lips.  
“By you, yes. I love it.” Your confession is not anything you’ve ever said out loud before but it’s unabashedly true. The idea of giving yourself to him for his own pleasure is what most excites you.  
“Do you like to be called names? Whore? Slut?” Despite everything you’ve done up until this point he’s never directly called you names. He’s told you to suck his cock like a whore and to fuck him like a slut, but never outright used them.  
“Not all the time. But sometimes I think I would like it.” You’re honest because Paul can handle the complexity of your desires. He himself has many layers and understands not everything is black and white, yes and no. “It turns me on the most when you make me say those things.”  
“Would you like that tonight?”  
“Yes,” you nod, squeezing your thighs together.  
“Good. Thank you for your honesty,” he nods, taking a breath, glancing at the mound of your pussy. “Next we need to talk about your punishment.”  
“Punishment?” you question surprised.  
“Yes. I’ve been unhappy with you twice and we need to talk about both times. First, you came into my office today and questioned me about Lexi. I told you when this arrangement first started that you would be my only sexual partner. That was part of our agreement. Do you remember?”  
“Yes,” you nod, looking at the floor. You want to remind him that he also jumped to conclusions about his own personal guard, but this isn’t the time or the place. And to be honest, punishments are often one of your favorite activities. “I’m true to my word. Do you understand?”  
“I understand. I’m sorry.” You shake your head, doing your damnedest to look apologetic.  
“I hate it when you say that. Don’t be sorry, change your behavior. Which brings us to the second issue. When I tell you to do something, you do it. If I tell you to turn a vibrator on, you turn it on. I don’t like having to tell you twice.”  
Something about the combination of his tone and the words makes your legs weak. You’re not sure what’s wrong with you for liking this and you’re probably going to hell for getting off on it, but fuck if he doesn’t make your pussy ache.  
“It won’t happen again.” You look up, meeting his unflinching stare.  
“I was going to come home and fuck you but I’ve decided that you need a reminder about who’s in charge,” he snaps, jaw ticking. “Ask me for it.”  
“Please show me you’re in charge,” you respond without hesitation. “I need to be reminded.”  
“Yes, you do,” he sighs, sitting up. “Open the box.” He gestures to the shiny black box on the floor. You kneel down, taking off the lid to find a series of sex toys. There’s a thick black dildo, several butt plugs in various sizes, a small vibrator, a ball gag, and a ring gag. “We’re only going to use one of these tonight, we’ll save the rest. Take out the largest plug.”  
You look up at him, then down into the box picking up the thick, cold metal plug, feeling the weight of it in your hand.  
“Now, turn around, get down on your hands and knees. Spread your legs wide so I can see your cunt and your ass.”  
There’s that conflicted feeling, the one that all your encounters start with. You turn around, getting into position and presenting your backside to him, knees grinding into the carpet.  
“I would say you could use lube, but it doesn’t look like you need it you’re so wet. Stick it in your pussy, get it wet enough to slide up that tight little ass.”  
You whimper, a shaky sound erupting from your throat as you reach between your legs and ease the metal into the slick between your folds. You rub the tip over your clit, bringing a jolt of pleasure before pushing it into your dripping sex.  
On hands and knees in his living room is about as submissive as things have gotten up until this point but you’re not surprised at the way your body is reacting. This is a vulnerable and shameful position, but also thrilling.  
You make slow circles feeling the plug in your pussy before pulling it out. Suddenly his hands are on you, one hand on your hip, the other coming down on your ass cheek with a resounding crack.  
“Fuck!” you wheeze, rocking forward.  
He takes the plug from you, pushing it back into your cunt until it’s all the way inside, the base between your lips. He leaves it in place for a moment, rubbing your clit with his thumb as you pant, pushing back into him. Before there’s too much pleasure he pulls it out with a wet sucking sound.  
“Now,” his fingers are spreading your cheeks wide and the cold wet tip of the plug meets your puckered hole. “I’m going to push this in. While I’m getting it into place I want you to tell me what a whore you are and how much you want it. Do you understand?”  
“Yes,” you gasp, nodding enthusiastically as he begins to push hard. You can feel your body stretching open, the pain and the burn that morphs into liquid heat between your legs. “I’m a whore. I want it deep, please. Oh god, please harder.”  
With a final push, the plug sinks in, popping past the ring of muscle. You groan, dropping your chest down onto the carpet as he gives your ass a couple of hard swats.  
“Come,” he instructs, sitting back in the chair, spreading his legs. “Kneel here.”  
You shuffle over to him, feeling the plug shift inside you, a delicious stretch that makes your empty pussy clench around nothing.  
“Now, I think it’s time for something new.” He looks down at you with a dark affection, his hand cupping your jaw, thumb sliding along your lower lip. “We’re going to add a little incentive for you going forward. This weekend you’re only allowed to have an orgasm if you have my cum in your mouth. Which means if you want to cum tonight, you better start sucking.”  
You stare at him, genuinely surprised, your cunt and ass tightening around the plug in arousal. Without saying a word you reach out, unbuckling his belt, easing his throbbing erection out of his trousers. He’s clearly been hard for a while, the head of his cock is almost purple and leaking pre-cum as you lean forward and seal your lips around the head.  
For the first few minutes, you suck on just the tip. There are times when he insists that you deep throat him right from the get-go, but you prefer this, suckling on him like you’re starving for it as your tongue slides against the little v under the head of his cock. It’s been weeks since you’ve had him in your mouth. This is something you really do love.  
With a moan and a breath, you take him deep, your pussy twitching in delight as you taste the pre-cum on your tongue and then he slides down your throat. You moan again vibrating around his shaft and he groans, taking two big handfuls of your hair.  
“Fuck,” he murmurs, more breathless than usual.  
Bobbing up and down you keep him stuffed down your throat, breathing carefully through your nose, even and measured. It’s a skill you’ve honed over time, and now that you’ve perfected the technique and know how to fully relax your throat, you can stay like this for longer and longer stretches of time.  
He tugs hard, hair yanking at your scalp and you come off him with a pop, drool dripping down your chin as you look up, waiting for further instruction. Your hand is resting on his thigh and he takes it, guiding you to cup his sack.  
“Do you feel how heavy my balls are?” His mouth falls open as you gently roll his package in your hand. “I haven’t jerked off in two weeks. I’ve been saving all this cum for your hot little mouth.”  
“Oh god,” you blurt out, the words tumbling out in a whimpering sigh of lust and excitement. Your pussy throbs and you swear you can feel your heartbeat in your nipples now.  
“Suck on them,” he instructs.  
Leaning forward you let the weight of his spit-wet cock rest on your face as you open your mouth and carefully suck one of his testicles inside. You’re gentle but consistent, rolling him over your tongue as his cock rubs over your nose and forehead. You move to the other side, tonguing him with care until he pulls you back up, ready for you to attend to his dick again.  
You engulf his cock with unbridled enthusiasm, making small eager noises as you work the entire length of his shaft.  
“Ask me for it,” he grits out, fingers digging into your scalp.  
You look up, popping off his cock, wiping your chin with the back of your hand.  
“Please cum in my mouth,” you implore, squeezing your thighs together, you look up at him, eyes blown wide with lust, one hand wrapped around his length. “I want it so bad, please cum in my mouth.”  
“Such a good girl,” he praises, wrapping his giant hand around your head, angling his cock back into your mouth. “Suck. Don’t stop until you have a mouth full.”  
Diving right back in, you suck and lick, desperate for his orgasm. This submissive side of you gets almost as much pleasure from him cumming as you do from your own orgasm.  
When he gets close he grunts twice, his hips bucking up and tapping the back of your throat, then he finishes. He spurts thick ropes, warm and thick over your tongue as you resist the urge to swallow, keeping all of his seed in your mouth as instructed.  
After several heavy breaths, he pulls your mouth off him, grunting in satisfaction as you sit back on your heels.  
“What do you say?” he asks, stroking his own cock base to tip.  
“Hank ooo,” you garble, waiting for his next command.  
“Get up here and sit on my cock.” He grabs a fist full of hair, pulling you up into his lap. There are times when he can stay hard after cumming the first time but there’s no real guarantee and that’s what he’s betting on. You’re going to work fast and hard for it if you want to ensure your orgasm.  
Straddling his hips you sink down on his erection, letting him slide into your desperate, pussy.  
“Let me see.” He pats your jaw. You open wide, sticking out your tongue, showing him your mouth full of creamy white. “Good girl. Now, use my cock to make yourself cum.”  
You don’t need to be told twice. You begin sliding up and down his dick, letting your clit meet the base of his cock with each pass. The stretch is wonderful, between the thickness of the shaft and the plug nestled deep in your backside, it’s almost as challenging as the first time.  
Paul takes your wrists, twisting both arms behind your back and pinning them together at the base of your spine. You have to concentrate, keeping your thighs and hips in balance and you ride him.  
The taste of him is salty and familiar on your tongue, this new requirement only adds to the building of your own peak.  
Keeping your hands in place with one hand, the other hand moves to your breast, squeezing the nipple and twisting hard. You’re there, right on the edge, everything between your legs slick and begging for release.  
“An I um?” you struggle to ask for permission.  
“Yes,” he twists your nipple just a little further as your orgasm sweeps through your body from head to toe. Just as the satisfaction begins to fan out he gives his final order, “swallow.”  
You immediately swallow his load, gasping as your pussy pulses around his cock and your ass grips the plug. You tug at your arms out of instinct but he holds firm while you shudder and shake, cumming hard with him inside you.   
“Holy shit.” You quake, going slack, then slumping forward into him. He releases your wrists, both his hands cupping your ass as you lay your head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”  
“You’re welcome,” he sighs, squeezing your ass, seemingly enjoying this part as much as you are.  
-  
“Tomorrow you’re coming with me to a gathering.” He leans out of the closet, unbuttoning his dress shirt with two hands.  
“That sounds ominous.” You sit back against the pillow.  
“Gene likes to do this thing. Get everyone together, band, band manager, techs to celebrate before the tour starts.” he explains walking from the closet to the bathroom.  
“He’s having a what he calls a ‘dinner party’ and you’ll accompany me.”  
You’re taken aback by the statement, but wary for what it means. “I have a question.”  
“What?” He sits on the edge of the bed, tugging his socks off one at a time.  
“ I thought us going to some high profile place together was a huge no-no. ”  
“There couldn’t be anything lower profile than an event at his home. Besides he knows that you are my assistant. Even Lexi will be there since she’s going on tour with us as well.”  
“Okay.” You watch as he strips down to his boxers. His body is something to be appreciated, long and lean, the line of his muscles are easy to follow. He’s stronger than he appears under his suits and turtlenecks. “I’ll make sure to have what I want you to wear sent to you.”


	15. Chapter 15

Most Friday nights you’re chauffeured directly to Paul’s house, but tonight you went home after work in preparation for the “dinner party”.  
Paul sent an outfit. You were nervous when you opened the box but it turned out to be nothing more than a strapless black dress that hugs your hips and showcases your breasts. There were no undergarments in his little care package and the dress has its own boning for support, so you take that as a clear instruction. He wants this dress to be the only thing you’ve got on.  
-  
“You’re quiet,” Paul observes as the car winds up a steep, tree-lined two-lane road.  
“I’m nervous,” you admit, looking at where his hand is gripping your thigh. “This is out of my comfort zone.”  
“It’s just dinner. But I had to go and by extension you were expected to come as well. ” he shrugs, glancing at his watch.  
You shift in the seat, staring out the window as the car rounds a corner, revealing a massive house set up in the hills. There are thousands of twinkling lights flanking the driveway as you pull up to the main entrance. Paul gets out, offering you a hand and then tucks it over his arm as you walk toward the house.  
\--  
One hour in and you were feeling as if all eyes were on you. Even if they weren’t. Lexi was sitting next to you prattling on nonstop, as you fought the urge to groan, as you looked across from you at Paul who was listening to Eric then glancing at you, as you feel your phone vibrate.  
Paul: you doing ok there? Look like you wanna shoot yourself?  
You sigh, trying to focus on your food, glancing at your watching watching the time pass.  
\--  
20 minutes later…  
Dinner was done, and you tried to get as far away from Lexi as possible when Paul gave the excuse that you needed a tour of the expansive house.  
He stops at a shut door at the end of the hallway, opening and ushering you inside before closing and locking it. You’re in a huge, ornate bathroom, big enough that there’s a sitting area with two chairs and coffee table. He turns to you, reaching down to pull your dress up over your hips, exposing your bare pussy. “Sit here.” He backs you up until your naked ass meets the cold marble of the counter. “Spread your legs.”  
“You couldn’t wait?” You question, watching as he wanders to the chair and takes a seat, his eyes locked on you. You follow up the question by hopping on the edge of the sink, lifting your knees to open your legs for him.  
“Not really, plus it’s on my personal list.” Paul clarifies, palming his cock through his pants. He’s hard, thick and bulging through his slacks.  
“This turns you on?” you ask, watching him watch you.  
“You like it to,” he clarifies, unbuckling his belt, sliding down his zipper and taking his cock into his hand.   
His eyes drop to your pussy and you touch yourself lightly in confirmation. It’s true, you’re wet. Blushing you bite your lower lip, watching him stroke himself.  
“I think it’s more the idea of getting caught. I’d never want you to actually fuck me in front of someone else, but I enjoy the fantasy of it.”  
“Touch yourself, rub your clit,” he instructs, lazily stroking his cock as if you aren’t in a bathroom at Gene Simmon’s house.  
You do as he says, using your middle finger to gently stroke your own clit, wiggling from side to side and moaning softly. He was right, you are turned on, more than you care to admit.  
“I could make you suck my cock in from of them,” Paul offers, his voice low with self-restraint. You look up, blinking as you stare him down. “I could march you back out there, tell you to get on your knees and choke on my dick. And you’d do it, wouldn’t you?”  
“Yes,” you nod, mouth opening in a soft gasp at the thought of that kind of humiliation.  
“Do you have anything in mind that you do want to try?” he asks, his gaze never leaving where your fingers are working between your shaking thighs.  
“The restraints,” you admit, dipping a finger into your own slick. “The cuffs, I’d be okay with you tying me up. And maybe a ball gag, you have one but we haven’t used it.”  
“I’ll make both those things happen.” His eyes flick up for a moment, watching as your face twists in pleasure. “I want you to tell me one of your fantasies. Something you’re embarrassed by. A fantasy that you’ve never admitted to anyone.”  
Despite the fact that you’re masturbating in front of him, the concept of admitting your deepest desire makes your whole body flush with shame. But the moment the command leaves his mouth you’re already sure of what you’ll share.  
“There’s one thing I think about…” you shift, starting to become uncomfortable with the position.  
“Come here,” Paul gives his cock a final tug, patting his knee.  
You shudder, pulling your hand away from yourself and nearly stumbling across the room. When you try to crawl into his lap, he stops you. Two wide hands curl around your hips, turn you around and ease you backwards onto his lap.  
“Up,” he grabs his cock as you lift yourself up, notching the head in your pussy. “Take it all.”  
“Fuck,” you whimper, sinking down until he’s inside you to the root. Your legs are bent and he slides a hand under each knee, forcing your legs to fall lax on either side of his. There’s no leverage like this, all your weight is keeping you impaled on his cock. One of his hands curls around your chest, urging you to lean back until your head is resting on his left shoulder, his jaw against your temple.  
“Just like this,” he murmurs, one hand sliding inside your dress to grab your breast, the other sliding over your belly as he starts to make soft, slow circles around your clit.  
“Shit, Paul,” you wriggle, feeling the head of his cock right on the edge of too deep.  
“Now, tell me about your fantasy.”  
Fuck. You take a breath, trying to think while you’re stuffed full of dick and he’s methodically rubbing your bud.  
“I imagine that I’ve done something that makes you mad,” you start, your entire face burning hot, thankful he can’t see it. “You’re so angry and you grab me hard enough that it hurts. We’re in the living room, or the kitchen when it starts, and you grab my hair and walk me down the hall to the bedroom with my arms pinned behind my back.”  
“How hard am I pulling your hair?” he asks, his jaw moving against the side of your face as he speaks.   
“Hard, it's excruciating.” You nod. Paul begins to slide two fingers along either side of your clit, pressing slowly together and you whimper, tightening around his cock.  
“Continue.”  
“When we get to the bedroom you force me onto the ground and tear my clothes off.”  
“Are you scared?”  
“Yes, I’m scared because you’re so rough but I’m turned on by it too. It’s making me wet and I’m ashamed that you’re going to find out..”  
“Keep going,” he urges, dipping his fingers into the slick of your cunt and going back to stroking your clit with the long, even press of his fingers.  
“You force me onto my belly. At one point I try to fight you, but I can’t because you’re too strong. Then you spank me. It’s brutal, harder than you ever have before and I’m crying it hurts so bad. But then you check my pussy and find out I’m really wet. That makes you even more upset.”  
“Why?” he inquires gently, his unassuming tone the polar opposite of the fantasy you’re describing to him.  
“Because you tell me that I deserve to punished and I’m not supposed to enjoy my punishment. You call me names, a whore, a slut. And then…” You stop, moaning loudly as he grazes directly over your clit. “Then you make me ask you to fuck me up the ass.”  
“Do I?”  
“Yes. It’s painful. You make me take your cock so deep. I beg you to stop, but you won’t, because I need to learn my lesson.”  
“When you’re begging me to stop, do you really want me to?” he whispers, gently pinching your clit.  
“No,” you pant, feeling the stretch of his cock in your pussy. “I like it when it hurts. I enjoy it even though I don’t want to. When you cum in ass, I cum too. I try to stop it but I can’t.”  
“What happens then?” he inquires, squeezing your breast with his free hand.  
“Nothing, that’s when I cum in the fantasy and it’s over.”  
He chuckles, shifting under and inside you, making you rock forward.  
“Paul,” you start, breathing picking up as his finger moves faster over your clit. “You know that I don’t-”  
“Do I understand that you don’t really want me to hurt you or fuck you without your consent? Of course. That’s why it’s a fantasy,” he explains, turning his head to nip at your jaw. “You have to enjoy it, for me to enjoy it. It’s why you’re perfect for our arrangement. We have the same preferences and the same limits.”  
“God,” you squirm, feeling the heat of his body behind you. His cock feels unfathomably thick tonight and he’s working your slit faster now, his touch growing insistent. “You’re gonna make me cum like this.”  
“No, you’re not,” he corrects you, his fingers still moving causing you delicious torture. “What’s the rule for this weekend?”  
You whimper, your fingers curling into the arms of the chair. “I can’t have an orgasm unless I have your cum in my mouth.”  
“And do you have my cum in your mouth?”  
“No,” you confirm, clit throbbing with each heartbeat.  
“That’s right,” he scolds, pulling his hand away right before giving your pussy a slap that makes you yelp. “And right now I want to cum in this warm, tight little pussy. Doesn’t look like you’re cumming any time soon. Get up. I’m going to fuck you.”  
He practically lifts you off his dick. You stand up on shaky legs, feeling him behind you. He bends you forward until your palms meet the coffee table. He slaps your thighs apart, widening your stance, then slides his cock back into your pussy and fucks you fast and hard.  
“Oh my god,” you moan, biting your lip to keep from screaming. At least you can’t cum like this. While it feels amazing there’s nothing touching your clit and the angle isn’t right for your own pleasure, so you enjoy the sensation of him taking you for what it is.  
It’s only a few minutes before he speeds up to a fever pitch. There’s the wet sound of your pussy taking his cock and the smack of his hips meeting your ass. His breath goes choppy, he thrusts harder and faster and then he cums with a long, low grunt. Your hips hurt where his fingers dig into flesh, holding on for dear life as he spills inside you, spurting thick until he’s finally satisfied.  
“Fuck,” he heaves, both hands grabbing your butt cheeks. “Shit, that was good.” He slowly pulls out, standing back to get a good look at you before removing his hands. You start to stand up, but he places a hand on your lower back to keep you in place. “Don’t move. You’re a mess.”  
Bent over the coffee table with his load running your thighs, you watch as he moves to the sink to get a towel and wipe his cock off. Then he rinses it out, and coming back to you, moves behind you to clean your thighs and aching sex. Once you’re clean he reaches back between your legs, thumb pressing lightly over your clit several times before he’s done.  
“Stand up.” His hand curls around your bicep, helping you into a standing position. Then he crouches down to pull your dress back into place. When he stands up he gets one look at your face and chuckles, walking you to the mirror.  
You look like you’ve been fucked six ways from Sunday. Your hair is a mess, eyes watering and lips swollen from biting into them. You’re sweating, cheeks flushed and still breathing fast.  
There’s no mistaking what’s just happened to you. Everyone will know.  
He grins, standing tall behind you, admiring his handiwork. “How do you feel?”  
“Horny,” you admit, pressing your lips together as you turn to face him. “Are you sure you don’t want a blow job? Because I’d really like an orgasm.”  
He laughs out loud, a genuine smile overtaking his face.  
“You’re going to have to wait.” Reaching out he places a hand on your shoulder, pulling you closer. “I haven’t decided when I’m going to end your misery.”  
“Well, that’s comforting,” you snort, grinning despite the fact your entire body is vibrating.  
He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, finding your eyes with his. “Come on, let’s get you another drink and find Gene before he comes looking for us. And take a few deep breaths to calm yourself or else he’s going to know right away.”


	16. Chapter 16

“I hope you two enjoyed yourselves.” Gene appears in front of you like a slithering snake, his eyes taking stock of your appearance as a smile spreads across his face. “Where were you two off to?”  
You unconsciously bring a hand up to your face, feeling your already flushed cheeks at his innocent question. Paul’s brow ticks, the hand above your elbow tightening its grip in response.  
“Just giving her a tour of the place. I think your room of all the tour stuff kind of took her over the edge .” Paul says as leans toward Gene, whose laughing as you remember something about a room that was completely full of all things KISS, specifically Gene KISS items.  
“Well that room does get that response” Gene chuckles good naturally, winking at you. “I mean who hasn’t fallen head over heels over it?” he asked rhetorically as you all laughed.  
Gene cocks an eyebrow. “Heard a lot of great things about you. I’m sure more you would like to talk to more people than Paul y/n. Are you sure you don’t care to share, Paul? We’re all friends here, let the girl mingle and talk.”  
“No,” Paul shakes his head, thoroughly unamused. “Not right now, we have things to discuss before monday, since the tour is approaching.”  
“My, my,” Gene pats his belly, looking between you. “Have we finally found your Achilles Heel?”  
Paul’s response is immediate, his demeanor shifting on a dime. “What is that supposed to mean?”  
“Nothing.” Gene can read his response just as well as you can. He’s said too much and once that line is crossed with Paul, it’s hard to retreat. “Nothing. You’re always so serious. Lighten up, have a drink.”  
“It’s been a pleasure Gene, but it’s time for us to go,” Paul snips, pulling you along with him.  
Gene calls something after you, but you don’t hear him. All you can focus on is Paul guiding you away from the party, toward the front hall.  
There’s no misreading this.  
You can’t help but feel somewhat hurt by how strong his response was to Gene insinuating he has even a minute amount of affection for you. Had he not responded at all, you would have assumed his indifference, but now he seems almost angered by the implication that perhaps your arrangement is something more than contractual satisfaction.  
Within five minutes you’re back in the car. Paul doesn’t say a word, just stares out the window as the black of the night settles in and the lights of the party fade into the distance. He’s silent the entire ride back to his house, doesn’t even offer you a hand to exit the car, just lets you scamper behind him, unsure what your next move should be.  
Should you offer to leave? The truth is your confidence is shaken, how could it not be?  
“Paul,” you start, following him into the kitchen.  
“You’re not going to talk for the rest of the night. Do you understand?” He turns to you, eyes practically on fire. When you hesitate he takes a step closer. “No words, do you understand me?”  
You nod yes, looking sideways to the counter, anything to get his eyes off yours.  
“Clothes off, take a shower. I’ll be waiting in the living room.” And with that, he turns and walks away.  
You strip down, leaving your dress in a puddle on the tile of the kitchen floor, and shower as instructed. Once you’re clean and dried, you walk nude back to the living room where he’s standing, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone.  
“On your knees, back against the wall,” he gestures, setting down his phone and unzipping his pants.  
It’s impossible not to feel the shift in his demeanor. This is the man you first met.  
“Hands behind your back, open your mouth.” And with that, he fucks your mouth for the better part of an hour as you willingly gag on his cock. While you are worried about this change in the dynamic, it’s also a turn on. The two of you have become more familiar with each other, you know what to expect from him…but not tonight.  
Tonight he slips back into the man who scared and excited you nearly every time you were in his presence. Every touch is hard and demanding, every order given expectantly. And you comply with everything, just as eager to please him as the first time. You trust that this is just temporary and that things will return to the new normal soon enough.  
-  
There’s only one explanation, he must feel what you do. At least that’s what you hope.  
And what do you feel? You’re not entirely sure, but it’s something. Something more than just sex.  
The very notion seems insane, you and Paul Stanley. But there’s this undefinable thing growing between you. You know it and so must he.  
And just as sure as you are about these feelings, the doubt creeps in. Paul isn’t the kind of man that has relationships. Hell, the guy doesn’t have that many friends. You’re crazy if you think that he’s going to make an exception for you.  
You’re misreading the situation, you have to be.  
But what if you aren’t?  
Bouncing back and forth between both possibilities you decide on a small gesture. A little offering to test the waters. After all, what do you have to lose?

The Following Sunday  
Standing in Paul’s living room you stare at the paper tickets in your hands, regretting the choice to buy them. It’s a ridiculous idea, a man like him doesn’t want to do something as plebeian as a planetarium.  
He’s been in a terrible mood all weekend. He’s barely spoken to you. It’s been two and a half days of nothing but sucking cock, getting spanked so hard you can barely sit down and taking his cock from behind while he nearly pulled your hair out.  
The weekend has come to an end, just as it always does. The wind down that never fails to leave you unfulfilled.  
Now, you’re waiting silently for him to send you off. It’s a tradition. After you fuck for the last time, he showers and changes before walking you to the door like a gentleman in some dime store novel. Tonight you can still feel his cum between your thighs while you look around his whitewashed house.  
Whatever’s gotten under his skin has made him even more cold and distant than usual. You know you should hide the tickets before-  
“What do you have there?” Paul inquires, clad in a fresh shirt.  
“It’s nothing.” Looking up you feebly attempt to remain casual.  
“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” he presses, stepping and holding out his hand. “What is it?”  
“It was a stupid idea,” you wait for a beat, before laying the tickets in his hand.  
He looks at you skeptically and then down at the tickets, “The Museum of Science Planetarium?” He lifts an eyebrow. “Were you planning on us getting high and watching a laser light show?”  
“No, it’s not, it’s-” you look at his utterly impatient expression. He’s already annoyed with you. “It’s the Northern Lights Experience. You said-”  
“I remember what I said.” His eyes go soft, a look he gets from time to time, his expression softening as he stares at you and then the shift. His jaw sets, eyes hard again. “I think it’s time we rethink our arrangement.”  
“In what way?” You perk up, trying to get a read on him.  
“We’re not going to see each other anymore.” Paul says the words like he’s explaining what you’re about to have for dinner.  
“What do you mean?” You inch closer, studying his deadpan stare. He can’t mean what you think he means.  
“Our time together is over. Permanently.” He blinks.  
“What?” You’re breathless, heart falling into your stomach. “Why?” you sputter.  
“Because,” he sighs, pulling off his glasses. “I’m done with you. I’m bored. It’s time to move on to something new.”  
Something new. You know exactly what he means, someone new.  
“You’re bored with me,” you repeat to yourself, staring at the carpet, swallowing hard. You won’t cry in front of him. It’s no doubt what he expects but you will not give him the satisfaction. “So that’s it? Just like that. We’re over?”  
“It’s time. It has been for a while.” He picks up his phone, tapping the screen. “I’ll have my driver take you home.”  
“Why did you even spend the weekend with me?” While you can hold back tears you can’t cover the pain in your voice.  
“I wanted to fuck. I had a stressful week and I needed some tension relief.” He responds matter of factly. “There’s no reason for us to interact at work. We shouldn’t have to see each other. You’ll be able to keep your job.”  
He’s being cruel, this is his specialty. His true colors showing through. All you can see are the tickets in his hand. Those tickets that were so much more than tickets, the symbolic gesture you wanted to give him in return after your birthday. An offering, a chance for something more. Here you were planning, wishing for things to move just little closer to affection and he’s been planning how he was going to fuck you one last time before he threw you out with the trash.  
Paul is a cold son of a bitch, you should have known this was how it would end. Taking a breath you stand up tall, holding your chin high, eyes blinking cold and expressionless. After all, you’ve learned from the master.  
“I think it’s probably for the best.” You smile as if you’re the one letting him down softly. Your mind is swirling, but right now all you know is that you want to hurt him, really hurt him. “I mean, you always made me cum but the orgasms have been a little…softer lately.” His brow twitches, nostrils flaring as he looks at you like he wants to wrap his hands around your neck. You doubt anyone has ever spoken to him like this before. “I’ll be alright. Maybe I’ll give your old guard a second chance. I do love assholes.”  
And with that, you turn on your heels and walk out of his house. You hold it together until the car pulls out of the driveway. For a moment you can’t think, can’t breathe. How has your life become this? A break up that was never really even a relationship at all. You were part of a contract, it was just sex all along and you should have known.  
Tears fall as his house disappears behind you and the car drives back toward the city. Toward the next chapter of your life. A life without Paul Stanley.

**Author's Note:**

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